As the world falls down
by Sabrina-05
Summary: Absolute power corrupts absolutely... What if the most dangerous of all wizards tries to get his hands on something that might give him exactly that? Whose life is going to be in trouble? Harry's? Good guess...
1. Thoughts and fears

**English is not my first language, so please take that into consideration :-) … **

Disclaimer: Of course none of the mentioned characters belong to me. They solitarily belong to the marvelous J. K. Rowling… 

_A/N: If you think this story simply sucks then don't bother reviewing. If you do nevertheless then be assured that flames will be ignored while CONSTRUCTIVE criticism is highly appreciated. Thank you. _

_Reviews that mark any of the characters a "mary sue" will be ignored just the same… Ok? While it is not intended to be one, I cant help it if some still thinks a supporting character can be one…. Got me? Understood? Has comprendo? Verstanden? __Tu_ comprends___?_ Alright, then here you go…    __

Unnoticed by the various neighbors in the surrounding back yards of the respectable houses in Privet Drive, a slim teenage boy with untamable black hair, a remarkable lightning shaped scar and round spectacles was laying on his back on a blanket in his aunt and uncle's backyard, his eyes closed and his glasses next to him. The sun was burning down on him and while feeling completely lazy, he drifted of into a doze…

It wasn't easy for Harry Potter to relax at all, contemplating on his last school year attending Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. His mind seemed to constantly drift of to a specific occasion involving him and his best friends fighting Death Eaters, the horrible followers of the most gruesome dark wizard of all times, Lord Voldemort. Even weeks after he felt his stomach clench painfully at the thought of the hazard he had brought his best friends into because he had Voldemort luring him into the Ministry of Magic in the first place. 

Although he thought that there were no tears left to cry - and the extreme sorrow he had felt when he witnessed his godfather die, had turned into what felt like a deep black hole in the deepest of his soul - he felt his eyes stinging once again. 

Even though he kept them closed, hiding their emerald green from sight, he felt them moisten and his throat tightened. He couldn't believe and he couldn't accept that Sirius Black has ceased to live. It just couldn't be. And though hearing people assuring him that this wasn't true, over and over again, he still blamed himself for it. Sirius, the person he cared most about in the whole world, the person that was the father to him that he never had, was gone. Gone because the love Sirius felt for his godson would not allow him to sit in the safety of Grimmauld Place while he believed Harry to be in danger. 

Wiping away the tears that were threatening to run down his cheeks, he opened his eyes and corrected his blurred vision by putting on his glasses. He sat up and for the first time in what seemed hours realized that it was terribly hot and he rather went inside… 

Life at Number 4 Privet Drive was far from being as horrible as it used to be in years past. That was merely due to the absence of his least favorite relatives, the Dursleys. As impossible as this still sounded to Harry's ears, they actually went of on vacation to Mallorca, a beautiful but completely tourist-invaded island in the Mediterranean Sea, leaving their least favorite relative, that being Harry of course, alone in their house! If somebody would have told him this a few months ago, he would have been hard pressed to fight the fit of laughter that would shake him. But it turned into reality! Explainable only by the threats that the members of the Order of the Phoenix made towards Uncle Vernon the day they met him on King's Cross Station. They told the big man with the piggy like eyes and the big mustache that he was to treat his nephew the best way possible and that he would regret every complain that reached their ears. Mostly thanks to Mad Eye Moody's intimidating appearance, Uncle Vernon was scared enough to not mistreat Harry as he used to all his life. 

Harry thought of the pile of letters lying on top of on his desk in his bedroom. All sent by owl post from his best friends, Ron and Hermione, Ron's parents, family and several by the members of the Order. All asking him, pleading with him and insisting on him to come and join them for the last time of his vacation. The tone of them growing just a little more impatient every time. 

Of course they tried their best to understand him, understand the way he felt and the pain that was so fresh and hurting. But deep down, he felt like they couldn't. After all they haven't suffered a severe loss like he did. 

Harry reached the backdoor, leading into a devastatingly clean kitchen. He tried his best to not alter anything in the house that Aunt Petunia tried to keep as clinically clean as possible. 

Sitting down at the kitchen table, he poured himself a glass of cold, sweet juice from a jug that he took out of the refrigerator. Unconsciously marveling at the superb taste of pumpkin juice, he found himself lost in thoughts once again. 

The pumpkin juice was sent to him by Hagrid, the gamekeeper at Hogwarts. Harry considered him one of his best friends ever. Along with Ron and Hermione it was Hagrid's company he enjoyed most of all. Still, nothing the man with the gigantic beard and the beetle black eyes said could help. His remarks to Harry at his first and only visit following Sirius's death only increased Harry's ache. 

_"I knew Sirius longer 'n yeh did… he died in battle, an' that's the way he'd've wanted ter go…"_

One thing was true about this insensitive remark: He hadn't known Sirius for long. 

Harry ran his fingers through his raven-black hair, making it even messier, if possible. 

It was one of the many things that aggrieved him so profoundly:  The little time he got to spend with this great person that was his godfather. His parents best friends, their preferred secret keeper. Meaning that they trusted him with their lives, and with their child. 

He thought of his two best friends, Ron Weasley and Hermione Granger. From their letters he knew that they were spending the summer at the Burrow, the house of the Weasley family. Harry used to consider this the place to be, besides Hogwarts that is. Surrounded by the love of a big family, sharing their lives and their laughs, he felt at home for the first time in his life. 

But it was so different this summer. He just couldn't bring himself to face them already. Noticing their concerned and worried gazes, whenever they thought he might not see it, was just too much to bear right now. 

Being alone in Privet Drive, surrounded simply by muggles that neither knew nor cared about such things as prophecies, Death Eaters and Lord Voldemort, nor wasting much thought on the "Potter-boy", he felt secure. 

In really weak and gloomy moments he even considered the option that he might not go back into the magical world at all. Whenever this thought slipped into his mind though, he was terrified of his own reflections. How could he even think of this? He had nowhere to go, he hasn't learned anything besides magic and above all, this was where he belonged. He belonged into the world of magic and mystery, belonged into the world where it wasn't unusual to have mirrors talking, ghosts zooming around, dragons, games played on flying broomsticks and books that shriek at you when you open them. There was no way around it; he belonged there and to no other place in the world. And nothing could keep him away from there, could it?

Nevertheless, the time he spent in the magical world was far from being pleasant all the time. Having all the bones in his arm growing back in one night, facing his nemesis, Lord Voldemort numerous times, seeing friends die right before his eyes, hearing his parents live through the last horrific moments of their short life, brought about by hooded creatures that lived for sucking all the happiness, preferably even the soul out of a person's mouth, wasn't enjoyable to say the least. Misery seemed to find him. No matter where he went or what he did. 

  
Again he reflected the battle at the Ministry of Magic. Besides losing Sirius, he could have very well lost at least one of his brave and loyal friends. Seeing Hermione being hit by a spell and falling down, Ron being attacked by a gigantic brain and all the others in mortal peril, he came to believe that it was him who attracted danger. What was the use in this? 

He sighed. It just wasn't fair. Sometimes he couldn't stand the thought that the weight of the wizarding world seemed to be put on the shoulders of a boy, the "boy who lived", this is. He was so tired of this. So tired of having people staring at him, marveling at his lightning shaped scar, wondering how he escaped Lord Voldemort yet again, while he didn't have the answer to this. 

Another thing was that his best friends tended to annoy him occasionally during his last year. He could imagine them vividly, sitting there at the Burrow, playing exploding Snap while constantly picking on each other. They just couldn't give it a rest. Arguing 24/7 while it was an open secret that Ron had a severe crush on the brown-eyed girl with the bushy hair. Harry didn't mind. His only fear was that he might be the third wheel once the two of them acknowledged their feelings for one another. But even worries like that seemed to be so far away now. As if they were in a parallel universe, much too trivial to ponder on them for too long. 

Even Cho Chang, the raven-haired beauty from Ravenclaw house seemed to have drifted into this universe. Seeing her with another boy would hurt, yes, but just the same it would never come close to the constant pain in his chest. He wondered lazily if smaller pain was absorbed by this immense hurting that never left him anymore… 

He let his head drop onto the table, closing his eyes once more, feeling his breath being pressed out of him. His whole body felt so heavy, as if he could never move again. And he felt cold, so cold… It was a feeling similar to the one Dementors usually invoked in him. What if he would never be happy again? 

Piercing through these deep depressing thoughts he heard the bright, electric, uncomfortable sound of the door bell. He jumped. Who could be ringing the door bell of Number 4 Privet Drive with the Dursleys gone?

He ran towards the door, opened it and found himself face to face with a girl. 

"She must be a Veela," Harry thought breathlessly. 


	2. Expect the unexpected

Thanks to muffinlover, my first reviewer ever! It meant a great deal and only this made me continue this story with the second chapter!  
  
Disclaimer: Like I said before, naturally none of this belongs to me. It all belongs to J.K. Rowling. Well, maybe I invented a character myself, but anyhow, I don't take credit for any of this. It all belongs to J.K.R., basing on her marvelous ideas!***  
  
His first thought at the sight of the girl in front of him wasn't far- fetched at all. Setting eyes on the mythical and dazzlingly beautiful, fairy-like beings at the Quidditch worldcup, he couldn't help but comparing the girl to these immediately. The girl had long, silvery blond hair that was falling down the middle of her back in soft, silky curls. Her skin was flawless and fair, gleaming in the sunlight. Her eyes were of a deep sapphire blue, unlike anything Harry had seen before. Her rosy lips were smiling at him, revealing white, stunning teeth.  
  
Harry noticed that he must have been goggling at her for quite a while only when she cleared her throat audibly, obviously trying to get his attention focused on something besides her sudden appearance at his doorstep.  
  
"Hello! I know that we haven't met or anything and I guess you're wondering about what it is I'm doing here in front of your door, but." It was apparently not so easy for her to get to the point of the matter, but she continued smiling somewhat self-confidently. "Well, my name is Grace. My family and I just moved in across the street and I thought, well, since I don't know anyone around here and I figured you'd be about my age, we'll probably be going to school together."  
  
Harry continued staring at her. It took him quite a while to take in what she just said. Suddenly becoming very conscious of his messy hair and the stains on his jeans, resulting from sitting on the grass most of the day, he found it extremely difficult to find a clever reply to what he just heard.  
  
"Um, yeah, I guess." he choked. Well that wasn't exactly like it. He searched his brain for something better to say than this and his thoughts stopped at what the girl just said. Going to school together? That was a tricky subject. He had to find a way to get out of this fast.  
  
"I don't know what school you will be going to. But I'm quite certain that we won't attend the same one." Now that sounded kind of rude, even to himself. He saw Grace frown at his remark. What was he thinking? He tried again.  
  
"My name is Harry Potter, by the way." He smiled his most winning smile. "It's nice to meet you Grace." He extended his hand, reaching for hers. Her frown vanished as quickly as it had appeared. Thanking him with a radiant smile she took his hand. He marveled at the softness of her slim fingers around his own, thinking lazily if the sun severely affected his brain today.  
  
"It's really nice meeting you too. I know it's kind of odd for me to just come and ring on your door like that, but since I don't know anyone around here. I saw you going down the street the other day and, well you know, I assumed that you were around my age. I'm 17 for that matter." She smiled again, setting of several butterflies in his stomach.  
  
"Why don't you, um," he coughed, "come in and have a glass of lemonade or something? It's terribly hot today, isn't it?"  
  
Harry could almost see the thoughts racing through her mind for a brief moment, then she beamed at him. "You know what, I'd love to".  
  
Harry backed up to let her inside. He closed the door and then led the way to the kitchen. Grace followed him closely. Harry saw her taking in the whole kitchen, probably wondering how anyone could keep a house as spotless as this. Taking a new glass out the cupboard, Harry poured some pumpkin juice from the jug into the glass and handed it to Grace.  
  
"Do you want to sit on the porch and drink it?" he asked, feeling kind of insecure on what to suggest. He couldn't remember being in a more awkward situation. He silently thanked his fate for not having the Dursleys at home.  
  
"That's a good idea", Grace smiled. The two of them made their way out on the porch, sitting on the bench that was usually reserved for Dudley Dursley's fat bottom.  
  
Before a rather uncomfortable silence could rise between the two teenagers, Harry asked her to take a sip of her pumpkin juice. As soon as Grace did so, she cried, "What kind of juice is that? I never tasted anything like it. Oh Harry, it's delicious!" Harry couldn't restrain a broad grin. Of course it was delicious. And even more so it wasn't surprising that a muggle girl had never tasted it before. 'I wished I had some butterbeer for her', he thought grinning.  
  
"It's pumpkin juice, believe it or not" he said smirking, not being very astound at her surprised face. It's hard to imagine that pumpkin juice was this tasty. Maybe it was the magical side to it, he thought.  
  
"Now tell me, what school is it that you're going to?" Grace asked, pulling him back into reality.  
  
There he was, facing an enormous dilemma. He recalled Uncle Vernon telling everybody who dared to ask that he was going to St. Brutus's school for incurably criminal boys. Now that wasn't exactly what he'd liked to tell a beautiful girl he just met. But it had proved useful to stick with his uncle's stories in the muggle world. He never cared. Nevertheless he didn't quite feel that a criminal record would benefit the impression that he made. And somehow he felt like he wanted to make a good one.  
  
"It's not that easy to explain," he stated truthfully. "It's not like it's a very well-known school. It's not in England, either." he added quickly.  
  
"Well, try me," Grace smiled.  
  
"Alright, it's in," he pondered for a brief moment, "it's in Scotland." That would do the deal. Scotland wasn't England, but still it didn't seem odd for somebody to go that far away.  
  
"So is it a regular state school, or what do they teach there?" inquired Grace, taking another sip of her pumpkin juice, and then licking her lips delicately. This simple action got Harry paralyzed, staring at her, feeling petrified. But he quickly pulled his senses together again, trying to find a satisfactory answer.  
  
"Well it pretty much is a normal school" he said, knowing that he probably never said anything so untrue in his life. "They teach us mostly the regular requirements, like history (he thought of their ghost teacher, who didn't even let his death stop him from going on monotonously teaching them about goblin wars and giant revolutions, before disappearing through the solid cupboard), chemistry (yeah, that came closest to his least favorite subject of potions, taught by his most loathed teacher, Professor Snape), math (at least Hermione took Arithmancy which mostly dealt with divination from numbers and, by the looks of those complex number charts, was completely brain-wrecking!), you know, all the usual ones." Harry added, hoping that he sounded convincing.  
  
"I see. Well it really sounds like a pretty normal school you're going to. Pity you're not going to the local school here. I would have liked that. - Since I don't know anybody." Grace added quickly, still making Harry's cheeks blush suspiciously.  
  
They went on talking about the local school, life at Privet Drive in particular and being on holidays in general.  
  
"I really should be going now," Grace said after a while, glancing on a silver watch that was dangling on her wrist. "My parents probably wait for me with dinner. But I was wondering," she said, blushing furiously and suddenly occupying herself with her watch, twisting it on her wrist, "what you were doing tomorrow. Maybe we could, you know, do something. That is, if you want to."  
  
Harry felt a sudden wave of happiness flood through him. He had already accepted the fact that his vacation would be consisting of intense boredom, not having any of his friends around, nor feeling able to meet up with them. But now it seemed like he could actually spend some time with this pretty, entertaining girl next to him.  
  
He found it rather hard to get his voice back to working again. "I'd, um, I'd love to." He finally managed to declare.  
  
"Wonderful. If you want to, I'll just pick you up at 2h tomorrow, ok?" Grace smiled. Harry nodded, not feeling like he could say anymore. "Alright, I'll see you then." Grace stood up elegantly, smiled at him again and turned to leave. Harry jumped up, and led her to the door. After closing it behind her, he leaned against the wall, resting his head against it and closing his eyes.  
  
The heavy weight in the pit of his stomach seemed to have lifted a tiny bit. He was overwhelmed that in the last hour he didn't think of Sirius's death at all. But as soon as this thought shaped in his mind, it came flooding back at him. He slid down the wall until he sat on the cold stone floor and pulled his legs towards him, his head resting on his knees. It was just too much. Again he felt the agony torturing him deep within, crushing him with the enormously heavy weight of the pain. This time he couldn't help it nor did he care when tears were forming in his astonishingly green eyes again. And if this wasn't bad enough, he felt guilt for laughing and being fairly happy this afternoon, enjoying the company of the girl that resembled a Veela so much.  
  
But the thing he came to realize suddenly was that the only time he had been carefree in the past month was in the company of this unfamiliar muggle girl. Every time he picked up one of his school books, looked at his Firebolt (his racing broom, being his pride and joy) or even when he laid eyes on his snowy white owl Hedwig, he was reminded of the magical world and even more of Sirius. Especially the sight of his Firebolt, being an extremely generous present of his godfather, made him cringe with a pain that was close to being physical.  
  
His tears were flowing freely now. He wished for nothing more than for a person he could confide in. He wished for a person that didn't look at him with such a worried or pitiful expression. One that came to his mind when he pictured his best friends. He wished for someone that would just listen to him and understand the way he felt. He wished for a person where he wouldn't be ashamed to cry. He wished for parents, once more.  
  
Please tell me what you think! Reviews are very welcome! 


	3. The phone call

*** To Sbys: Thank you so much for your nice reviews! It meant so much, especially coming from you!! I have about two or three other fanfiction stories that I enjoy reading a lot, but yours are definitely my absolute favorites!!! And I'm a HUGE fan of your writing ability! You're a brilliant writer and I was so flattered that you actually reviewed my first fanfiction. Yeah I know, I always use pretty long sentences :-) .. But I think your way of writing is way more descriptive than mine. I just love reading your stories!!! So THANKS A MILLION for your reviews, I appreciate it so much!  
  
Disclaimer: Obviously, none of the mentioned character belongs to me, they are either copyright and/or registered trademarks of J.K. Rowling, Warner Bros.  
  
Harry didn't sleep well at all the next night. Rolling around in his bed in the room that used to be Dudley's second bedroom, nightmares were haunting him frequently.  
  
He found himself tied to Tom Riddle's tombstone once again, fearfully watching Wormtail approach him with a dagger.  
  
"Blood of the enemy, forcibly taken. you will resurrect your foe."  
  
The next thing he saw was Cedric's lifeless, gray eyes, staring at him.  
  
"You know that you insisted on me taking the Triwizard Cup with you! If it wasn't for you, I would not be dead! I'd still be alive; I'd still be with my girlfriend even!"  
  
Harry moaned in his sleep, tossing and turning from side to side.  
  
The next thing he saw turned his soul into pure, frosty ice. He saw Sirius, dueling with this detested cousin of his, Bellatrix Lestrange. He witnessed, yet again, the jet of light hitting him right across the chest; saw his godfather fall in what seemed like a grotesque form of slow motion. Saw the expression of surprise, mingled with fear in the face of the man he had grown to care for so much.  
  
"SIRIUS, NOO!!"  
  
Harry jerked up, hitting his head on the bookshelf right above him, panting heavily. He was covered in sweat, his night clothes sticking to his body, a severe pain spreading across his head, starting at the spot where he crashed against the bookshelf. A dumb pain in his scar added to his miserable condition.  
  
It wasn't by far extraordinary for him to have this kind of nightmares. In fact, they seemed to haunt him nearly every night. He even came to the point where he dreaded going to sleep at all because he knew what it was he had to live through, over and over again.  
  
Deciding that it was no use to dwell on his misery, he got up and went to the bathroom, enjoying a long, relaxing shower. After drying up and putting on some clothes, he felt some energy creeping back into his body slowly.  
  
He had to get a grip on himself! Today he was meeting with this beautiful girl that - in his eyes - resembled a Veela to a great extent. He felt a different kind of excitement rise up in his chest. Trying to find out if he was just severely nervous or if it was something else he was dreading, he went down into the kitchen and started to fix himself some breakfast. Imagining what it was that Grace had planned for the two of them - since she had said that she was going to pick him up, he assumed that she had something in mind on what they could do - he stirred his coffee with the spoon in his hand, completely lost in thoughts.  
  
While letting his mind soar, he was distracted by the loud ringing tone of the telephone in the living room. He jumped up. Now who could this be? Maybe, he figured, it was Uncle Vernon, checking on him for the hundredth time if he hadn't, accidentally or on purpose, set the house on fire or crashed the car.  
  
He picked up the phone and held it to his ear. "Hello?"  
  
"Harry! It's me, Hermione!" Surprised, but not thoroughly pleased to hear her, he replied,  
  
"Hi Hermione, what's going on? Any particular reason for you to call? You're at the Burrow with the Weasleys, right?" he was trying tremendously hard not to sound rude, but the creeping feeling of pain, that he came to associate with everything of the wizarding world, started to hit upon him again.  
  
"Well I'm not at the Burrow right now exactly," Hermione giggled. "You know that they don't have a 'Phellitone'." Harry tried to force a laugh, noticing that it surely didn't sound very convincing. It was really sweet that the Weasleys were so completely helpless when it came to muggle gadgets, but in his current state he found it annoying. How could they be living so isolated in the magical world?  
  
"I just wanted to check on you, see if you're doing alright," Hermione continued. "You haven't been writing to us in two weeks and I didn't know." she broke of, struggling to find the right words.  
  
"I am doing fine," Harry said, emphasizing every word. "What makes you think I'm not? I'm a big boy, remember?" he declared, trying to sound as if he was joking, although totally not in the right mood.  
  
"I know, I know, that's not it." Hermione confirmed. "It's just, you know I presume you are still."  
  
"Don't worry," Harry cut her of hastily. That was exactly the reaction he was afraid of. It was exactly the reason for him to stay in Privet Drive and stay away from his friends. Every time they naturally had to bring up the subject of Sirius. And no matter how sensitive their remarks might be, it felt as if a dagger was being twisted around in a freshly inflicted wound.  
  
"So how are you and Ron doing? Still fighting persistently?" Harry tried to anxiously find a change of the subject. And luckily he succeeded.  
  
Hermione sighed intensely at the other end of the line and went on about how annoying Ron could be when he did this and said that, how he could never give it a rest and continued to pick on her, how he wouldn't start on his homework, even thought there were only four weeks of holidays left and everybody knows how tough the sixth year will be in Hogwarts, having the N.E.W.T.s coming up soon.  
  
Harry felt like she continued chatting for at least six minutes, without him saying a single word. At one time he held the phone a few inches away from him and stared at it doubtfully. How much can a girl have to say about one single subject? And it's not like she was talking about the "Fierce Fairy Uprising" of 1666 that ultimately changed the way goblins traded with fairies, no she was talking about Ron and their trivial disagreements.  
  
"Are you still there Harry?" He heard Hermione's far off - voice coming out of the receiver.  
  
"Of course I am," he said, hastily putting the phone back to his ear.  
  
"I am worried about you Harry", Hermione eventually said, changing the tone of her voice entirely. The rather bossy tone she usual adapted when talking to her two best friends, trying to make them do their homework or study for their upcoming potions exam, turned into a soft, caring quality, touching him more than he would have imagined.  
  
"You don't have to be worried, Hermione", he assured her, trying to sound as convincing as possible.  
  
"This is exactly what I need right now. The Durselys are gone and I can run around in the house by myself, do whatever I like. It's great. Nobody knows me around here, really. They leave me alone and I can get my thoughts in a row, trying to think about what happened. No offense, but I just couldn't." he suddenly found it harder to talk, "I just couldn't face all of it again. You know, for instance Mrs. Weasley being all upset and all. I just feel better here by myself."  
  
He waited for a reply, but there was a thick silence all at once. He heard Hermione breathing on the other side of the line, but she didn't say a word. Finally she said, speaking very softly, "But we're your friends Harry! If we can't help you through this, no one can." And then, after what seemed like another eternity in silence, "Please let us come and pick you up Harry, I promise, we wont say anything about, you - know- what! Just let me," she paused for a split second, "let *us* be there for you!" Her voice changed again, now sounding heavy with un- cried tears.  
  
Harry was entirely astounded at this. He could have coped with her being angry, even expected her to be mad at him. But this unfathomable sadness he detected in the tone of his best friend melted some of the ice that enclosed his soul.  
  
Even though he could tell that she was fighting hard to restrain it, he heard that she was crying now.  
  
"I think I know how you feel Harry! I mean, of course I don't know exactly but I try hard to imagine what you're going through. I miss him so tremendously myself."  
  
Harry knew that Hermione and Ron liked his godfather nearly as much as he did. Now that he reflected on this, he had to admit that he didn't take that into consideration.  
  
"But what pains me most is that you don't want to spend time with us anymore, Harry!" he heard Hermione sob delicately. "If it's anything I've done, then I am so sorry! I didn't mean to force you into telling me how you feel. I guess I failed as a friend. When I read your letters to us, saying that you won't come to spend the summer at the Burrow this year, I realized it was our fault. I'm so terribly sorry, Harry!"  
  
Hearing Hermione shed tears about a decision he made, listening to her apologizing for something he wouldn't blame her for if she was the last person in the world, - it broke his heart.  
  
"Hermione, that's not true! Please, don't cry, I'm sorry! It has nothing to do with you or Ron!" he tried to soothe her.  
  
"I just feel like I'm losing you, Harry."  
  
Harry could hardly hear her. Hermione was speaking so quietly now, he had to listen hard to catch everything she said. She sounded so unlike the bossy fifth-year prefect that intimidated some little first-years in their previous year at Hogwarts.  
  
"I feel like you're drawing further away from me, with every day that we spend apart. I want to be there for you so much, but you just don't let me."  
  
He had to make her understand! He had to have her recognizing his true motives. His reasons for why he acted like he did. Hearing the girl he cared more about than any other in the world, sobbing in pain that he inflicted, he couldn't stand it.  
  
"Hermione, please stop crying! It really has nothing to do with you! I promise! It's me. I just can't come back right now." He knew that he had to tell her. Tell her everything. And so he did. He told her about his nightmares, his fears and the way he couldn't occupy his thoughts with anything that might be connected to Sirius in whatever way. After he ended, he waited for her to say something.  
  
"I understand."  
  
After what seemed to be like a time without end, she said these two simple little words that warmed him up from inside, broke part of the chain around his chest that threatened to gradually suffocate him. They warmed his insides as if he had swallowed a whole mug of butterbeer at once on a fiercely cold winter's day.  
  
"Thank you", he managed to say, his voice full of gratitude for the smart, caring and compassionate witch he was talking to.  
  
"Just don't stay away for too long. Or I'll be flying to your house on a broomstick in the middle of the day. And you know how I detest flying!"  
  
"Alright Mione," Harry laughed, reassured.  
  
After they hung up the phone, Harry sat down on the porch and reflected upon the phone talk he just had with his best friend. He hadn't told her about Grace, but he didn't know if that was important enough to let her know yet. He just felt tremendously happy that he made her understand. Her words and her compassion had stroked a part of his soul he had thought to be lost in terrible emptiness, imposed by the loss of Sirius.  
  
--- Alright, that was the third chapter. Please review, if you want to let me know if you hated it or liked it a bit. I appreciate every criticism a lot! And thanks to you that already reviewed! 


	4. Full of grace

To Sbys: Thanks a Million again for your nice reviews!!! And sure enough I won't ever get tired of hearing form you :-) I'm just so grateful that there is someone who reads my stories and says something about them :-) !! But please, if you find something that you can criticize on, make sure to do so. I'd highly appreciate that too, especially coming from you since your story is my absolute, rival-free favorite by now! I hope you do continue with the next chapter real soon :-) ! And I hope that you like this chapter since I'm not so sure about it myself. It's rather long, too. Anyhow. :-)  
  
To Muffinlover: Thank you so much for your review! I am so glad you liked the first three chapters of my story! And if it wasn't for you and your nice first review, I wouldn't have continued writing it (and/or posting it) at all. So thank you so much for that! I hope you'll like the fourth chapter also. I'm not so sure about it yet :-( But please let me know what you think of it and tell me what I could be improving. I just noticed that you have posted two stories yourself so I'll go and read them as soon as I'm done with posting this chapter. Keep reviewing, I appreciate it so much!  
  
Disclaimer: I certainly do not own any of the recognized characters mentioned in this story (although that would be nice *sighs*) They solitary belong to J.K. Rowling.  
  
***  
  
Still too distressed by Hermione's phone call to seriously get going and get ready, Harry remained sitting on the bench on the porch, propping his legs up on the chair in front of him. It would have never occurred to him that she would take his decision, to not visit the Burrow this summer, the way she did. But then again, - Harry thought, a smile appearing on his features, - he could never tell exactly what Hermione was thinking. Sometimes it felt as if she knew him inside out, and so did he, but then he found himself wondering what in Merlin's name was going on in that head of hers.  
  
Truth be told, Harry realized that it wasn't too implausible for his two best friends to feel the way they did. He sighed heavily. His eyes closed, he felt a slight breeze, almost lovingly caressing his face, going through his hair, making it all the messier.  
  
"It feels so good to have the sun warming you up like that," Harry noted subconsciously. Feeling so utterly relaxed, he dozed off.  
  
*** "The Dark Lord prepares himself for the last and final battle. He has been brought back to life to be tremendously powerful. His desire for supremacy has been increased. He thirsts after the weapon that can, in due course, defeat his Nemesis. Beware, Harry Potter!"  
  
Professor Trelawney's hoarse, croaking voice, so unlike her usually misty and mysterious one, penetrated Harry's mind. He saw her sitting rigidly in her armchair, eyes unfocused.  
  
"The ultimate combat will be violent, ruthless and it will cost sacrifices. many sacrifices. Are you willing to make these, Harry Potter? Are you ready? For behold, the day will come! Now what are you waiting for? Get up; we were supposed to meet at 2 am!"  
  
"What? What's going on? Let go of me, Professor!" Harry shot up, causing the chair to fall down, making a loud clanking noise, and the bench to slide against the wall, causing Professor Trelawney to withdraw her hand quickly, that before was resting on his shoulder.  
  
Adjusting his glasses, sitting all crookedly on his nose, due to his sudden jump, he starred at the person in front of him. It was by no means Professor Trelawney. Although she did have a certain scared look on her face, surveying him in an apprehensive manner, as if worried that he might have an unsuspected outburst again. It was Grace.  
  
"I am so sorry," she said. "I didn't imagine I would scare you like that. The backdoor was open and since you didn't answer the door, I mean, I just thought." She stopped, blushing.  
  
Harry imagined that she probably felt like she had to apologize for just walking in like that, so he quickly reassured her.  
  
"Don't be, that's ok. I'm sorry I didn't open the door; I just didn't hear you ring the bell. I must have dozed of. I'm really sorry. You know what, I'm really glad that you thought of coming through the backdoor. I would have been so mad at myself if I didn't meet you."  
  
That established a smile on Grace's face immediately. She beamed at him, her eyes sparkling. This was the first opportunity for Harry to take in her appearance today. Her silvery blond hair was pulled into a ponytail that still ran down the half of her back. A few curls circled her oval shaped face, framing it elegantly. Her azure eyes reflected the sun beams as she fixed her gaze on Harry, carrying her smile in them as well. She wore a pink tank top with extremely small straps, revealing her small shoulders and plenty of her ivory colored skin. Harry blushed slightly as his gaze ran over her figure. She was so stunning in his eyes. Again he caught himself thinking that only a Veela could invoke feelings like that in him.  
  
Grace laughed quietly, undoubtedly noticing how hypnotized Harry was by her. He hardly noticed. "So you were dreaming of some teacher? Some Professor is it? Yeah I know that teachers sure can bring about horrible nightmares." she finally said, causing Harry to jerk back into reality, suddenly nervously aware that he must have been goggling at her for quite a while.  
  
"Yeah, I mean, y, yes," he stuttered, fighting hard to get a grip on himself once more. "She is quite a scare, you know. I thought that I was in class with her again and, um, I think she gave me intention." He frantically thought of something that might justify his strange behavior.  
  
"Well detention is not that bad now, is it?" Grace smiled.  
  
A vivid image of himself, sitting in an office in a tower in Hogwarts, decorated by vases of dried flowers and a collection of plates, each displaying a large technicolor kitten with a bow around its neck - and worst of all: writing down lines on a parchment with a razor sharp quill, with no ink and having the written words cut into the back of his hand, tracing his writing on the parchment with his own blood.  
  
"No," he mumbled. "It's not that bad at all. I'm sorry if I scared you."  
  
"That's quite alright", Grace promised. "Do you want to get going now? It's already fifteen past two!"  
  
"Yeah, sure. Where do you want to go anyway?"  
  
"Well I thought, maybe we could go to the lake nearby; you know the one a few miles south of Surrey. Then we could go on a boat ride or something. And my Dad told me that they have an ice cream parlor there, which sells excellent ice cream cones. But I'm sure you know all about that, don't you?"  
  
Harry reflected on what she just said. So it sounded like they really had a decent place close to the dreadful location of where he spent most of his life, and every summer in the past. And he had never heard as much as a thing of it. Sure enough, the Dursleys went on what they called "Diddykins' treat - days" every now and then. Harry knew that Dudley got to pick something, whatever it was, and they would go on and do that so "Dinky Diddydums gets to relax a little from that stressful time at Smeltings school". But obviously they never took Harry with them. Although, he thought dully, he wouldn't have been surprised if they had taken him to this lake, getting their hopes up that he might drown at some point of time.  
  
"Well no, I haven't heard about it to be honest. I spend most of the year at school, you know." Harry said, hoping that he didn't sound like a complete moron.  
  
"That's alright, we'll see what it's like" Grace smirked. "But if we don't get going quite soon, we might not catch the bus to take us there."  
  
With that she offered Harry her hand to pull him up from the bench he had fallen onto again, pulling him upwards.  
  
"Ready?" she asked, smiling.  
  
"As ready as I'll ever be," Harry said, returning her smile.  
  
***  
  
After a thirty minutes ride on a rather bumpy street in a hot and sticky bus, that reminded Harry of the Knight's Bus in several ways, for example the way it stopped to let people get on and of, having the other passengers nearly fall of their seats, they arrived at a picturesque lake, surrounded by soft wavy hills, occupied by loads of fluffy white sheep, making it look like a green side covered with little clouds.  
  
"Isn't this place pretty?" Grace sighed, climbing out of the bus after him. Harry agreed with her. It really was a charming location.  
  
They decided to first stroll around the lake for a little while before enjoying one of these famous ice cream treats. Leisurely walking around the lake, Harry listened to Grace's narrations about where she came from and what in this world made her and her family move to Privet Drive.  
  
"My father was offered a job at the town counsel in Surrey, you know," Grace said, "and his position here is so much better than his previous one. Besides, my parents said that this was probably a nice place to raise your children. I have a sister who just turned 4 so she'll start school soon. And I'll be going to the local school here. Of course you don't happen to know anything about that school, do you?"  
  
Harry shrugged. Certainly he heard about the local school in Surrey. For quite a long time he was sure he had to attend this school, which was a dreadful thought to him. He found himself reminded of how little he knew of the muggle world that he once considered the only one in existence really.  
  
After they circled the lake, they decided that it was time for some ice cream. It was again an enormously hot day. They chose a table on the veranda of the ice cream parlor, having a beautiful view of the lake.  
  
"Do you think there might be some sea creature in there?" Grace giggled. "You know, like the Loch Ness monster?"  
  
"I wouldn't be surprised" Harry said earnestly, not exactly thinking of what she just said. He thought of the Giant squib in the lake at Hogwarts and the mer people he had to face during his second task at the Triwizard tournament. Harry was really not the person to be easily surprised by strange creatures, not having Hagrid as a friend who considered fire spitting dragons and gigantic spiders to be delightful pets. He was suddenly aware of Grace staring at him with confusion in her eyes.  
  
"What do you mean?" she breathed. Harry was suddenly conscious of how his statement must have sounded to her. He tried to think of a good excuse but he was spared to find one because of Grace bursting into laughter.  
  
"You can be so funny, you know that? You got me believing that you actually believed in sea monsters for a second! You should take some acting class in school because you're really talented!" She held her belly which seemed to ache from laughing so hard. Harry joined her, laughing too, although not entirely out of the same reason.  
  
The ice cream was indeed tasty. Although the whipped cream didn't jump into your face when you first put your spoon into it, the cherry didn't make you float of your seat and hover in mid-air for a minute, and the almonds didn't hop around in your stomach for a while, - as they sometimes did in the magical world, - the ice cream was purely delicious.  
  
Although Grace refused to accept it at first, Harry paid for both their ice creams with the muggle money he had brought along. He found it useful that he always had some with him, even though he rarely needed any.  
  
Contently full of ice cream, they thought that it was time to rent a boat and row some around the lake. The boat rental was very close to the ice cream parlor. The owner of the boat rental was a spiteful looking man in his fifties, who eyed them suspiciously with his menacing little eyes. The ginger cat that was creeping around his feet completed the uncomfortable similarity to Filch, the caretaker of Hogwarts School, who's most wished-for desire was so close to being fulfilled in Harry's previous school year: becoming the permission to whip students whenever he saw fit.  
  
Nevertheless Grace and Harry rented a little boat for "two hours maximum" as the Filch-look-alike reminded them of unpleasantly.  
  
Harry stepped into the boat first which wobbled dangerously as soon as he stepped into it. Being the gentleman, Harry offered his hand to Grace and helped her into the boat.  
  
"Milady?"  
  
Grace giggled and took is hand. Effortlessly she managed to climb into the boat and with ease situated herself on the other side, facing Harry.  
  
"Ready?" he said, smiling. Although he never rowed before, he had an idea on how it was done and didn't think there should be loads of difficulties.  
  
"As ready as I'll ever be," Grace grinned, winking at him.  
  
"Ok, let's go then." Harry took the paddle and started moving them through the water strongly. Concentrating on the correct movement, on how to dip the paddle into the surface and how to move it through the water, he managed to get the little boat moving at noticeably speed.  
  
He silently cursed this horrible Professor Umbridge once more for giving him a life time ban for Quidditch. He knew that if he had been able to practice all through the last year, he would have been in an even better physical shape. Noticing Grace staring at his arms, moving while rowing the boat, he inwardly grinned and thought that he might not be so much out of shape after all.  
  
"How about taking a little break and sun bathe for a while," Grace asked as they reached about the middle of the lake. The boat was rocking slightly and the water was glistening in the sunlight as if entirely covered with crystals.  
  
Harry agreed and pulled in the paddles, stretched his legs out in front of him and closed his eyes. He enjoyed the feeling of the sun on his face so much. He felt totally at ease. It felt like the sun's warmth was melting some of the icy pain in his chest that had been building up there for the last couple of weeks.  
  
"So where did your parents go? I haven't seen them at all." Grace's voice pulled him back into reality and he opened his eyes, directing his gaze towards the girl in front of him. It hadn't occurred to him that she could have possibly thought that he was living with his parents! Of course, the Dursleys have been gone by the time Grace moved into Privet Drive, but still. It was a totally new experience for him to meet someone who didn't know that his parents were murdered by the dark wizard Voldemort, or at least know that they are dead!  
  
He looked down, fixing his eyes on his shoes.  
  
"They are dead. Died when I was still a baby." He didn't look up.  
  
"I am so sorry," Grace whispered. "I didn't know."  
  
"That's alright, you don't have to apologize" Harry said quickly, looking into her face that showed a lot of compassion. Strange enough it didn't bother him. Usually he didn't want anyone to pity or to feel sorry for him. But everything was a lot different with Grace. He felt comfortable in her presence, thoroughly enjoying her company. He came to realize that she was just as much a remedy for him as was the time he spent at the Dursleys without his irritating relatives at home, away from the magical world. He wondered if he had ever felt as comfortable with a girl before, besides of course with Hermione and Ginny.  
  
"Um, do you mind putting some suntan lotion on my back?" Grace interrupted his thoughts. "I just get sunburned so easily."  
  
"Um, no, of course not," Harry said, dazed. Again she had caught him off- guard, lost in his thoughts.  
  
Grace moved cautiously closer to him, trying hard to keep her balance on the shaking boat, then turning her back to him and sitting down in front of him, so he had on knee on either side of her shoulder. This sudden proximity to her caused him to feel slightly nervous. He took the suntan lotion that she had pulled out of her purse and had handed it to him. Subsequent to this she pulled her long silvery pony tail over her shoulder, slid the straps of her top down on her arms to expose her back to him. Harry felt positively uneasy now. Facing Voldemort or his Death Eaters was one thing. But being this close to a beautiful girl was another. "The only thing they can do is kill you," Harry thought drearily, squeezing some of the suntan lotion onto his right hand.  
  
The first time his hand made contact with her silky skin, he felt as if an electric shock went through his whole body. She must have felt similar for he felt her tremble slightly, almost undetectably under his touch. Biting his lower lip, he tried hard to concentrate on spreading the white lotion onto her back, trying hard not to marvel at the way her smooth skin felt under his fingers and the way her muscles tightened and relaxed. Trying to stay focused, he surrendered his attention completely to her and the suntan lotion.  
  
After he finished spreading the lotion over her back, he daringly let his hands linger on her shoulders for a few more moments, enjoying the position of his hands on her skin.  
  
Grace suddenly took hold of his left hand which was resting on her left shoulder and pulled it closer to her, pressing her lips on his palm for a brief second.  
  
"Thank you" she said, turning around to him, smiling.  
  
Harry's stomach did a sudden back flip. He was in a state of shock, speculating on how it was possible that this girl was able to confuse him repetitively.  
  
Returning to her seat on the other side of the little boat, facing him, Grace asked "Now what are we going to do?"  
  
"I don't know exactly. Well, we could go on for a little bit; maybe go over to the other bank?" Harry suggested.  
  
"Nice idea." Grace agreed, examining the other side of the lake. "Looks really nice over there."  
  
As soon as they reached their destination, they got out of the boat and quickly found a nice shady place under a few big oak trees.  
  
"This is so lovely," Grace sighed, sitting down under the biggest of the trees, leaning her back against the trunk, spreading out her legs in front of her and glancing at the sparkling surface of the lake. "It's just beautiful."  
  
Harry silently agreed. Not so much because of the beauty of the surroundings, but also because of the fact that it reminded him of Hogwarts and its lake to such a great extent. He sat down next to her, leaning his back onto the big tree as well. "Who could have figured that there was a place so similar to Hogwarts' lake in such close proximity to Privet Drive?" he thought, while his thoughts started wondering of again, as so often these last days when he let his mind relax completely.  
  
"May I ask you something?" Grace enquired after a few minutes of restful, peaceful silence.  
  
"Sure," Harry answered drowsily.  
  
"How did you get this scar on your forehead? It really looks extraordinary!"  
  
Within a second Harry was fully awake again, his mind racing and his pulse speeding up. Of course there wasn't a big problem with telling her some sort of lie, but being asked a question about his scar was something he couldn't take unserious.  
  
"Well, it happened when, I mean," he had to be rather careful. He had to make up some plausible excuse for a lightning shaped scar centred on his forehead while not giving anything away which would result in a breach of the magical law, forbidding every action that might occur in the exposure of the wizarding world.  
  
"This shouldn't be so hard," Harry thought, thinking frantically. He had to explain his scar to muggles before, why should it be so difficult now?  
  
"I hurt myself when I was a small child." he finally said. That was partly true. Well, he didn't hurt himself, of course. But this should be enough to satisfy her curiosity. Or was it?  
  
"Hmh, it's still very unusual looking," Grace went on, sure enough. But then she met his eyes, obviously seeing that he didn't want to continue on this subject and so she eventually dropped it.  
  
The both of them went on talking a little about their experiences of going to a new school, finding new friends and adjusting oneself to a different surrounding. Now that certainly was something Harry could comment on. Only five years ago it was as if was planted into a whole new university, demanding a lot of adjustability of him.  
  
"I hope it won't be too tough," Grace sighed. "I usually make friends quite easily. But I still hoped you would be going to school with me." With these words she directed her glance directly towards him, her azure eyes looking intensely into his green ones.  
  
As soon as their eyes locked, Harry felt as if was stunned by an enormously powerful spell.  
  
"And it's not only because I don't know anyone else," Grace continued, remaining her eyes fixed upon Harry's. Harry wondered for an instant if she was able to do Legilimency, the art of externally penetrating the mind while starring into the other person's eyes.  
  
"It's mainly because," she paused,"- I like you, Harry Potter. You're so much unlike all the boys I've met before. You've got a somewhat mysterious air around you. But above all, I enjoy being in your company a lot. It's really sad that you'll have to go back to Scotland soon."  
  
Harry gulped. That was unquestionably not what he expected at all. He felt his stomach give an involuntary lurch as he watched Grace reaching over, placing her hand on his own which was resting on his leg, interlacing their fingers. Looking up to him she smiled again then inclining her head until it rested softly on his shoulder.  
  
Not knowing exactly how to react to all this and utterly surprised by her actions, he started to gently caress her fingers with his right hand, enjoying the feeling of her hair tickling on his neck and her warm body next to him. 


	5. Nearly supernatural

**ItshardtoloveHermy, ckat 44, annie and ****epholge: Thank you all so much!! It means a lot! This is my first fanfiction ever so I wasn't sure if anybody would like it. And I'm not always very satisfied with the way I'm writing. So it's great to have someone liking it :-)  **

**Sbys: As always, thank you so much for your nice review!!! I'm just really glad that you keep on coming back to read my story and I highly appreciate it! I hope you'll get a chance to continue your story real soon!! And don't let those people at work yell at you, that's not nice at all!**

As I'm sure already noticed, I followed your advice immediately. Thanks a lot for it! I was actually wondering, how others get to have italic/bold words in their stories… ;-) 

**muffinlover: thank you  :-) !! I'm really glad that you like my story and continue to read and review it!! I sometimes try to describe things in detail because that is what I like to read myself. But in times I feel like I don't portray things/people enough so let me know if I should go more in depths with that. **

As for the grammar, I re-read every chapter two or three times before posting it. But I'm sure I still make quite a few mistakes, but I'm trying hard to keep them to a minimum. I'll re-read chapter 4 again and see if I can spot some more :-) .

**Disclaimer: _I still don't own any of the recognized characters. They are the rightful property of J.K. Rowling and I'm not trying to steal them or anything. Just borrowing them for a tiny story… _**

"This is so nice," Grace sighed dreamily after a while. Her head was still resting on Harry's shoulder while Harry put his left arm around her tiny frame, pulling her closer to him, the fingers of their other hands still entwined. 

He could do nothing but agree with her. It was the most relaxing feeling he had experienced in the entire time subsequent to Sirius's death. And that was truly amazing to him. 

The girl on his side gave him the impression of being alive once again. The part of him that died along with Sirius wasn't going to come to life again, but still the intense anguish was lifting noticeably, he could breathe once more.

Watching the waves of the lake's shore crush against the bank playfully, he tried hard to not let any dark thoughts tear down this sensation of contentment. The sound of the oak tree's leaves rustling faintly, combined with the soft chirping of birds perfected this atmosphere properly.   

He looked at their hands, picked hers up and pulled it close to his face, looking at her shiny fingernails and eventually turned it around, tracing the lines on her palm with his finger. 

"Can you unravel the future by looking at my hand," Grace smiled at him. 

"Well I can't, but there are certainly people who think they can really well," An image of Lavender Brown and Parvati Patil came to his mind, absorbing every word Professor Trelawney uttered, with an enchanted look on their faces. 

"It's called Chiromancy. Interpreting the lines on a hand is occasionally used to predict the future, look into the past or to simply discover lost objects. But it's a very obscure science. And I wouldn't think of it as very accurate." 

  
He thought of the various occasions where Professor Trelawney had predicted his premature death in the course of the school years when he took Divination. 

And to make it even more implausible, she foretold him a very long and satisfying life with loads of children in his fifth year, after learning about him upsetting her arch-enemy, Professor Umbridge. So he came to the conclusion that it really has to do a lot with the mood the "seer" is in at that precise moment… 

"That's really interesting," Grace mumbled. "Is that some hobby of yours?"

"Oh no," Harry laughed, imaging Ron hearing someone say that some part of Divination was his _hobby._

"I just came across it at some point of time. Read about it a little. But I wouldn't say that I studied it extensively." _And that was just so true, he thought grinning. _

-- "Hey, I asked you something," he suddenly heard Grace saying, noticing at last that she had turned to look at him, smiling sweetly. 

"Now what can I do to get your attention?" she teased him, squeezing his hand a little. 

"I'm sorry," Harry said, blushing. "What were you saying?"

"I was asking you about that nightmare that you had… What did you really dream about before I woke you up?" 

"Wh, what?" apprehensively Harry turned to look at her himself, perplexed by this question. He fearfully started to wonder what it is she heard exactly. He cursed himself for falling asleep in the middle of the day when he perfectly well knew that Grace was coming by… 

Truth to be told he hadn't slept without having strange dreams at all these past weeks so he should have known… But then again he didn't expect her to just walk in on him, sleeping in the back yard…

"Well you were saying something about a dark Ford or something? I couldn't understand it properly and I didn't want to eavesdrop on you, so I decided to wake you up. But to be honest, you looked terrified. 

And I can't quite believe that you were dreaming about getting detention." She added, thoughtfully. "That really can't be that bad. Even at some Scottish school," she smirked. 

"What else did you hear me say," he demanded of her, now feeling positively nervous. 

"Not that much, it's more the way you acted. You were tossing around and all. And you had that terrified look on your face." She paused. 

"Now I'm really good at guessing people's thoughts," she continued, now in a more cheerful tone. "My friends essentially used to ask me if I could read people's minds." She giggled, and all at once seemed to be deep in thoughts. 

Now Harry didn't think this was reason to laugh at all. He wasn't the one to be surprised by these "unnatural" abilities, for there was hardly anything that could astonish him at all.  

  
_But this girl… she couldn't be…. _Harry sighed. 

Now this was just nonsense. But then he admitted to himself that it wasn't a far-fetched thought for him to be suspicious about new acquaintances since he already spent his entire fourth year at school in the company of what he thought was the ex-Auror Mad-Eye Moody – who eventually turned out to be an impostor, working for Voldemort and handing Harry to him at the end of the Triwizard Tournament, which finally let to Voldemort's resurrection.

"Let me guess," Grace said, turning to face him. "Hmh, difficult… Are you closing your mind or something," she smiled her dazzling smile again, that being enough to put Harry in a sort of trance. 

She then reached out her hands and put them on each side of his head, messaging his temples with her slim fingers…

"I can sense a strong tension that has been built up," she murmured mysteriously, a smile still playing around lips. "Am I right?"

_If you only knew…_ Now I really can't trust anyone so easily. _Harry thought dully, while his world seemed to be spinning around. He became really dizzy. His eyes were now closed but he could feel Grace's breath on his face, so close to his own… _

"Since you chose not to answer me, I should be right…" she went on. "Seems like you were just thinking about whether or not you should tell me your real dream… 

--And if you can trust me!" 

Harry opened his eyes immediately. _This can't be possible, he thought frantically. _It was a good guess, nothing else. And not a very hard one either…__

He searched her face, looking intensely at her. She smiled contently and turned back to sit next to him.

"Now tell me, how close was I?" she asked. "And don't tell me I wasn't right at all because that's simply impossible. It's nearly supernatural! Usually I'm always right." 

Harry swallowed hard and chose not to answer. This was getting spooky. There was undoubtedly more to this girl than what simply met the eye.  

"We should be going now," he said, getting up, hoping to change the subject without offending her. 

But sure enough, when he turned to face her, her gorgeous face darkened.

"I'm sorry." She whispered. 

"Now you don't have to be sorry," Harry replied quickly, not wanting to upset her. "I might tell you soon. It's just that… I don't really feel like talking about it now. I don't want to spoil this nice moment." 

  
It seemed like he struck the right nerve there. Grace beamed at him.

"And besides," he added, returning her smile, "we should get back; this boat owner didn't look all too friendly to me."

"You're right, let's go," Grace agreed. 

Harry reached out to get hold of each of her hands, pulling her upwards. He must have pulled a little too strongly for she stumbled and he caught her in his arms, holding her, their faces inches apart. Trying to make a mental image of what she looked like in this precise moment, he felt all common sense drift away. It seemed to him as if the world solely consisted of him and the girl in his arms, glancing into his eyes apprehensively. 

Getting all his courage together he reached out, letting his fingers run through her silvery hair, parting its silky strands easily with his fingers. Breathing became an extremely difficult business all of a sudden and he wondered if it was possible that he couldn't manage to do two things at one time… 

Grace lifted up her right hand and let her finger run gently over the lightning shaped scar on his forehead. He shivered a little under her touch. 

She leaned in even closer. Harry closed his eyes, not exactly knowing what to expect. A fraction of a second later he felt her lips, kissing him very softly on his cheek. 

He opened his eyes, seeing her drawing back from him. 

  
"We really should be going now; I don't want to get in trouble with this horrible man over there." She said, not looking at him but turning her back to him, starting to make her way down to the boat. 

Harry followed her, feeling utterly stunned by what has just happened.

_A/N: I know that there hasn't been that much going on in this chapter, but I'm already working on chapter 6 which has a lot more going on and a drastic turn of events is about to approach! _

_So please let me know if you hated this chapter, hate me for writing it :-) or if you even like it a little and if you are anxious to know what's going to happen next…  ;-)  _

_Bye bye… _


	6. Tell me you just didn't!

**Serrrebi**: **Thanks a lot :-) Read on!**

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**Silvermoon: Here it comes… I hope you like it!!! Thanks for leaving this nice review for me**

**Muffinlover: As always :-) I appreciate it so much! It's great to get reviews from you, I hope you're going to like this chapter as well.**

**JVoldieme**: **Thanks for your review! I know the plot has been going rather slowly. I hope this chapter might make up for it a little. It starts of rather slow as well, but please read all of it all the same :-) **

**Sbys: I highly appreciate it!! It's always so good to hear from you and I'm very grateful for your support!! And I welcome every advice you can give me! I hope you're going to like this chapter. It's rather long :-)**

Disclaimer: As already mentioned, I (unfortunately) do not own Harry Potter. They are the property of J.K.Rowling. 

The moonlight was drawing little circles of luminosity on the white wallpaper in Harry's bedroom.  In the silence of night time there was nothing to be heard in Privet Drive, Surrey, southern England. The neighbours were fast asleep, proud to be so entirely normal: asleep at night, awake in the brightest, earliest hours of morning; the way it was supposed to be, anyway. The soft sounds of owls and other birds active at night penetrated the peaceful atmosphere only marginally in the course of the night. 

As widely known Harry can not be considered as _normal as his neighbours. Therefore it wasn't surprising that his bedroom window was illuminated with a little light, coming from the lamp on his bedside table. _

Harry wasn't able to find any sleep this night. Too much was on his mind, occupying his thoughts. 

For one he merely had to close his eyes to see a beautiful face with big blue eyes and a bright smile in his mind, as if it was carved into the back of his eyes; an everlasting picture. 

Unconsciously he reached up his hand to touch his cheek on the spot where Grace lips had brushed them ever so slightly. It felt as if they had left a fiery mark on his skin, still faintly burning. 

Secondly he couldn't help but be concerned about the way Grace behaved on their way back to Surrey.  

He sighed heavily. Just subsequent to this little innocent kiss, she had left him standing there, went of to the boat and hardly spoke a word to him. Harry found it impossible to get her to explain herself for she stubbornly decided not to talk to him. All she would do was sit there, eyes unfocused, teeth clenched.

Besides being sad about the way she acted, Harry felt his temper rise all the same. He didn't kiss her; it was all out of her initiative. He didn't have to feel bad, he didn't do anything! The injustice of this made him so angry; he had to get his mind off her. 

Nevertheless Grace told him she would call him the next day, so they could make plans to spend the afternoon together.

In addition to him being quite angry, he couldn't help but wonder how Grace was able to apparently read his mind yesterday. He knew perfectly well that it might have just been a very good guess, but he still felt rather uneasy, pondering on it. 

Naturally there were certain muggles that were receptive enough to pick up the mind's vibrations just about as well as a wizard or witch trained in Legilimency. But still, only "just about as well"… 

He tried to lock away his thought for it wasn't of much use to worry about this in the middle of the night.  

As if this wasn't enough to dwell on for tonight, he found himself thinking of the strange dream he had about Professor Trelawney right before Grace woke him up. 

_"The Dark Lord prepares himself for the last and final battle. He has been brought back to life to be tremendously powerful. His desire for supremacy has been increased. He thirsts after the weapon that can, in due course, defeat his Nemesis. Beware, Harry Potter!"_

Now what was that supposed to mean? Harry was far too experienced in these kinds of dreams and prophecies by now to simply overlook it and think of it as a regular nightmare. He decided that the only thing he could possibly do was to owl Professor Dumbledore about this. He would certainly know what to make of this. And … 

_since he didn't have a godfather to confide in things like that anymore…_

Quickly abandoning this dreadful thought, for he felt his eyes sting with tears and a lump forming in his throat again, he decided that he had to occupy himself quickly. 

Looking around he picked up a book he just previously bought on his shopping trip to Diagon Alley. 

_Magical Literature, a beginner's guide by Melissa van Quillstenberg, first published in 1864._

For Harry hadn't as much as read the title, he decided he might as well take a look at it. Magical Literature was an elective class he decided to take along with Ron and Hermione, for the other choices (_History of Functional household-spells or _How to properly get your mandrake through puberty_)were not as appealing to either of them. _

Their first assignment in this class had already been sent to them via owl by Professor Huberta Conscripto on the first day of their holidays. 

_"Magical Literature in the course of its existence has developed great dissimilarities compared to Muggle Literature. _

_Read the first chapter of "Magical Literature, a beginner's guide by Melissa van Quillstenberg" and point out the utmost differences. _

_(Note: Appearance as invisible ink, soaring pages or shrieking covers shall not be taken into consideration.)" _

Harry opened his textbook and started to read the introduction, the author's note and the first chapter of the book. Unexpectedly he found it somewhat interesting to learn about the way the first druids, the wizards of the Middle Ages and the magical people in modern times developed their creative writing and was astound to find out about the extensive range of prose developed by wizards and witches till this day.  

The muggle poem which was supposed to be compared to a magical one was "_A dream within a dream_" by a writer called Edgar Allen Poe. Harry read through it and liked it tremendously. Trying to find an interpretation for this nice poem and whether or not the mentioned grains of sand might represent the protagonist's loved ones, falling from his grasp, he suddenly felt tiredness overcome him with such a force that he could merely pull his strength together to put his glasses down and sank onto his pillow, sleep overwhelming him immediately. 

***

The next morning Harry was awoken by the soft _swoosh of wings, soaring through his window. _

He sleepily opened his eyes, put on his glasses to make out the blurred picture in front of him. 

Hedwig was sitting on his bed, clumsily making her way over his blanket, coming closer to his face. She hooted softly and started nibbling on his ear in a way she probably thought to be affectionate. 

"Ouch, Hedwig! Stop this!"  Harry yelled for it hurt quite drastically to have Hedwig's sharp beak on the soft skin of his ear lobe. 

She looked at him in rather hurt way with her great amber eyes and then held out her leg in a dignified way as if to say that he just didn't understand her. 

"Girls," Harry muttered, untying the two rolls of parchment attached to his snowy white owl's leg. 

One of them was clearly written in Ron's messy handwriting and he recognized the other one to undoubtedly be Hermione's self-confident script, her letters sharply and clearly scratched onto the paper. 

He took a closer look at the first paper for it looked as if Hermione had hastily written something on it. The ink was slightly blurred as if she had touched it by accident when it was still wet. 

He frowned. That was so much un-Hermione-ish… 

_Read this letter first!! _

Now he was positively confused. Read this letter first? _Well, maybe it'll be explained later_, he thought… 

He unfolded the first roll of parchment, written by Ron.

_Hi Harry! _

_What are you up to? Hope things are going well over there in your muggle house, hope the vellytision hasn't eaten you up or something, haha. _

_And I hope you're feeling a little better, you know what I mean. _

_I was really sorry to hear that you wouldn't come over to spend the summer with us yet. Naturally Mom has started to worry about you even more than usual. And between you and me: That is saying something! So if you want to do her a favour, you should at least spend the last week of your holidays with us. What fun is it there at your house anyways?  _

_Fred and George have moved out. It's become rather dull in the Burrow now as well. Although they still come by a lot to test their new inventions on… me, of course! I can consider myself lucky that I can even write this letter to you for I just regained full use of my hands… Don't laugh when I tell you that I had claws that would make Buckbeak really jealous! Just a hint: Never try something that looks like a purple lollypop and lets out green smoke!_

_Percy still doesn't talk to any of us. I think he's probably really embarrassed that he didn't trust us and stuck with the bloody ministry the whole time. He's just the world's biggest prat!_

_Hermione came to stay with us four days ago. She's been asking about you a lot. I don't know mate, I think she really misses you a lot. So do I, but she has been a mess as soon as she found out you wouldn't come. She said she's going to owl you herself later today. Don't know what she's up to right now, I think she's outside with Ginny, hunting some gnomes or something. _

_Well this could easily be the longest letter I've ever written so I'll just close right here.   
Hopefully you'll change your mind and come over quite soon, that would be cool! Surely the muggles will be back from Lamorca or whatever soon, right?_

_In a short time we'll all be moving to the new Headquarters (Dad said I can write that in a letter, now that the truth was generally accepted). I can't tell you where though, obviously._

_And I don't know myself, for that matter… They don't tell us anything. But thank Merlin we've got the extendable ears!!! _

_But we'll get you there if you decide to spend the rest of the time before school with us!_

_See you soon,_

_Ron Weasley_

Harry smiled. Ron was easily his best friend ever. Reading his letter it was just as if being in his company again, arguing about their favourite Quidditch teams in front of the big fire in the Gryffindor common room. He was really grateful that Ron didn't mention Sirius in his letter. Hermione would probably once more say that Ron had the "emotional range of a teaspoon", but Harry was so overfilled with emotions himself that the simplest drop of sympathy might cause his heart to overflow again and he just didn't want that. 

Curiously he opened Hermione's letter and started to read it. The words were scribbled hastily on the parchment with green ink, similar to the one Professor McGonagall used for her official Hogwarts letters.

_Dear Harry,_

_Ron doesn't know I'm writing this. I didn't want him to enquire all about my letter. He can be so annoying sometimes!!_

_I wanted to apologize for being such a mess when we talked on the phone. I'm sure that doesn't make it easier for you and I can't believe I didn't control myself better than that. _

_Have you thought about coming over to the Burrow again? I'm sure you must be terribly lonely there. I know that you said that this is what you need right now, but you can be by yourself here as well! We wouldn't be around you the whole time if you don't want us to, I promise! _

_Anyway, the most important reason I'm writing to you is that Professor Dumbledore has been visiting with us a lot lately. And you wouldn't believe who accompanied him last time: Professor Trelawney! I thought my eyes deceived me, but it was true!!   _

_Naturally we were not allowed to be present while the "adults had their talk", but I managed to slip into the kitchen next to the living room once and while I didn't catch the contents of their conversation, I noticed that they had adopted a really grave tone. Do you have any idea of what is going on??? Logically I've been reading the Daily Prophet regularly, but I didn't notice anything unusual. _

_Has your scar hurt lately? I don't know, I'm just worried. Please write back as soon as possible if you have any idea of what is going on. No, write back anyhow!_

_I really miss you a lot. I know that Ron does too, but he has so much on his mind since he joined the Gryffindor Quidditch team. He practises nearly 24/7. And I spent most of my time with Ginny. She's still with Dean Thomas, you know? _

_Please let us pick you up soon, I can't wait to see you again!_

_I miss you!!!!!!!!_

_Love always, _

_Hermione _

Harry frowned and looked at Hermione's letter disbelievingly. It worried him that Professor Dumbledore **and Professor Trelawney have been visitors at the Burrow. He couldn't help but think of his dream again. He had to tell Professor Dumbledore and he had to tell him pronto! **

But even more than that he was concerned about the tone of Hermione's letter. He hardly recognized his self-confident, smart, proud-to-be-a-prefect-and-a-role-model friend from school. She sounded so sad, so concerned and so emotional. He stared at the eight exclamation marks behind the "I miss you" she had written at the end of her letter. He couldn't imagine her writing that ever before…

***

After sending Hedwig of with three letters, - one to Professor Dumbledore, and two to the Burrow, addressed to Ron and Hermione - , Harry tried to spend the day in a useful fashion.  

Meaning the only thing that could ever be considered really useful was reading in his most favourite, most-read book, "Quidditch through the Ages".

At about 3 pm that afternoon Grace called and asked if he wanted her to come over in the evening and watch a movie. She told him, still in an unusual cold voice, that she would bring along the movie and some pizza if he could just provide the TV, the DVD player and something to drink. Harry appreciatively agreed for he hadn't thought Grace would call again at all after they separated the previous day in this more than frosty silence… 

The day was drawing to a close, it was close to 8 pm and the sky began to cloud over, the first stars were already visible on the firmament. 

Harry ran his hands through his hair, being as drowsily exhausted as one can only be after a day of doing… nothing. 

***

Harry sat in the living room, staring at the huge entertainment system Dudley just got for the special occasion of being… back from school. The Dursleys made their Ickle-Diddykins enormous presents for the most ridiculous reasons. As if he was able to hypnotize this black stereo-HiVi-system, Harry was just wondering about how he would be able to explain to Grace that he wasn't able to even turn this monstrous machine on, when he heard the door bell ring and jumped up to get the door.

The girl he thought about every other minute of this past day was standing in front of him, holding what seemed to be a DVD in the one and a box of pizza in the other hand, smiling shyly. 

"Hi," Harry said hoarsely, for his voice was failing him at the sight of her. 

  
Grace was wearing a tank top again, this time in the exact stunning blue as her big sparkling eyes. Together with her tight blue jeans it was accentuating her shape, making Harry blush slightly as soon as he noticed. 

Her skin looked so luminescent and silky that he recalled the feeling of his hands running over it immediately, making him blush even more. 

"Um, why don't you come in?" he said sheepishly, suddenly anxiously aware that she surely must have noticed his glance. 

He led the way to the living room where they sat down and tried to make themselves comfortable. 

Harry poured her some pumpkin juice, remembering the way she liked it when they first met…

_It sure is hard to engage her into small talk today, Harry thought, frantically searching his brain for something to say. Grace spared him of this difficult task though:_

"I'm so sorry about yesterday," she whispered, not looking at him. She took the glass of juice he offered her, brushing his hand with her small fingers, making him shudder. 

"What do you mean?" Harry croaked, having a faint idea of what she was playing at. 

  
"I cant believe I acted the way I did… I mean I practically threw myself at you and then… I acted like I… I mean,… " she fell silent once more, directing her glance at Harry's face with what seemed to be an immense difficulty. 

"It would be too much to explain right now, but just be assured that I'm really sorry and I hope you are not mad at me or something. I might tell you some time, … . I has something to do with my past… You wouldn't believe me if I told you and I cant blame you… . It happened before… In fact it occurs every time I start to like a boy…"

Harry's emerald green eyes searched into her blue ones for answers to this confusing statement. He didn't have a clue of what she was talking about and he didn't care so much for he felt as if a giant hand was squashing his heart as he saw tears rising into her beautiful eyes. 

"Don't cry, I'm sure it will be alright," he said soothingly, placing his glass onto the coffee table without taking his eyes off her face. 

She lowered her head, staring at her hands grasping the glass with her pumpkin juice ever so tightly. "You have no idea," she whispered, hardly audible.

"Come on, nothing bad happened, you know," he tried hard to comfort her for he felt as if her pain was his as well. It penetrated his heart into his very soul, leaving a fiery ache along its trace.

He placed his right hand under her chin, lifting her face up so she had to look at him.

"It will be ok," he said reassuringly, not knowing of the exact meaning of his words, just trying to make her understand and to make her feel better.

He put his hand on the side of her face, wiping away the tracks left by the tears on her cheek. The softness of her skin completely cleared his mind of thoughts; he didn't know what he was doing any longer.

As he drew closer their faces were mere inches apart from each other and as soon as he inhaled he took in her scent, a mixture of the smell of spring rain and pumpkin juice. He felt completely dizzy now, unable to control his actions.

Following a sheer impulse he kissed her softly on the cheek, then trailing her jawbone to her lips. The moment he felt her soft lips on his, his mind went blank. A sensation was flooding through him as if nothing in the world mattered anymore besides this feeling of perfection: 

He felt as if he just caught the snitch at the Quidditch Worldcup, as if just fought a Norwegian Horntail single-handed, as if he was drowning in the most delicious pool of butterbeer…

They didn't break the kiss in what seemed an eternity. It was as if neither one of them could get enough of the other's taste, feeling as if they just found the most beautiful oasis in the middle of a barren desert. 

After what seemed like forever, Harry broke the kiss to take in a deep breath.

"How come this feels so right," he gasped, frantically searching the face of his source of delight. 

Grace smiled at him, her eyes still red and watery, her lips a little swollen and puffy due to the intense kissing.

"I don't know, but I think we should try and find out," she suggested, pulling him into a close hug. Harry buried his face into her shoulders, taking in her scent as if to ever store it into his memory for he never sensed anything coming close to this wile he let his hands run up and down her back.

Grace tightened her hold on him while he started to trail kisses down her neck, tasting her skin. 

Soon this wasn't enough anymore and he turned her head to face him again, crushing his lips on hers. 

She made him feel so complete. 

***

Not paying much attention to the movie, Grace was snuggled tightly in Harry's arm, both sitting on the couch. If somebody was to ask Harry afterwards, he couldn't have told what movie it was they were watching anyways. 

Their concentration was occasionally interrupted by extensive kissing sessions while they were clinging to each other as if they were about to drown if they ever let go.

Harry was just caressing her soft cheeks, telling her for the repeated time how lovely she looked this night, as…

**"CRACK!" **

A sound as loud as a gunshot penetrated the soft silence, making them jump apart. In the middle of the room, blocking the television from view, stood, as displaced in this neat muggle living room as a pink monkey in the Buckingham palace…

Grace screamed at the top of her voice, Harry struggled for breath, his pulse hurting in his throat. 

"Snape!" he finally yelled, desperately hoping he didn't lose his mind and went completely nutters in the course of the night. He stared at the tall skinny man with the malicious black eyes and the greasy black hair, dressed in an old cloak hanging down to his ankles, pointing a black wand at his heart. 

"Potter," Snape sneered, staring down at him… "Who in Merlin's name is that?" he then shouted. 

Harry span around, looking at Grace. If Snape's sudden appearance had caused him to be on the verge of a heart attack, he realized it was nothing compared to the state this girl was in. 

Hidden in the corner of the couch she was shivering madly, a wild look in her eyes, feverishly staring from Snape to Harry and back again, whimpering now and then, hardly perceptible. 

It just occurred to him what sight this must be for somebody else: Snape, resembling the incarnation of evil, suddenly appearing out of thin air in the middle of a living room, madly pointing at Harry with a wooden stick. He looked similar to the angel of wrath, malevolence in persona or just like everything everybody has ever been afraid of. 

_And that wouldn't be too far from the truth, Harry thought dully, not able to grasp a regular thought while feeling completely overwhelmed by the situation. _

"I have an urgent message from Professor Dumbledore, concerning the Order! I thought it would be certainly safe to apperate into your house, knowing that you don't have any friends besides those annoying brats form school," he hissed. Then he raised his voice, causing Grace to tremble and to whimper as if she was scared that Snape might produce a single lighting bolt, exterminating them in a heartbeat. 

"Who could have supposed that you would risk the exposure of the magical world for the sake of some snogging session with a muggle gal???" he practically yelled, causing Harry to shake, but not out of fear but out of anger and fury, due to the injustice of this. 

"You could have very well checked if the coast was clear, _Professor_!" Harry yelled back at him, fighting hard to control his temper but losing miserably. 

"Wh, what are you talking about, Harry," Grace said, her voice shaking madly.

"Explain later," Harry muttered under his breath, turning to her but continued to stare at Snape.

"Oh no, you won't," Snape said in a mocking tone. "You practically well know what needs to be done, you know what this situation calls for! Even an under-average intelligence as yours should be able to figure this out!" 

  
"What do you mean," Harry gasped, hoping for the best and expecting the worst.

  
"An obliviator will arrive at this place shortly, performing a nice little memory charm on your pretty friend here," Snape grinned as if he had just been presented with the most beautiful striking Christmas present ever. 

"And not just some little one, oh no… I mean, look at her and see for yourself! She needs to get the real thing. I dare say she won't remember much of this Sparkling Night of Romance. I'd be highly surprised if she remembered you at all" he added, grinning his most mischievous grin ever, the one he usually adapted when Neville melted his cauldron and he was planning on trying exactly this potion on his toad, Trevor. 

Harry turned towards Grace promptly, staring at her, not believing his ears. This couldn't possibly be true. Why was his everyday life always turning into the merest nightmare?   

Grace stared at him fearfully. "Are you going, going to brainwash me or something," she managed to pant after what seemed an eternity of staring into each other's eyes.

"Oh no," Snape grinned, answering at Harry's place. "It's much more eloquent than any un-magic, stupid method you might think of, girl! You can be sure of that! Come to think of it, I think I could perform the spell myself. Why waste time?" He raised his wand and pointed it in Grace's face, taking in a sharp breath.

  
"No, please Sir, don't!" Grace pleaded with him, tears running down her cheek. She moved towards Harry, eyes fixed on Snape's wand, blindly reaching for his hand. Harry took it and squeezed it tightly. 

"You cant do that, Snape! You wouldn't dare to!" he roared at him. "First of all, you caused this situation! I didn't do anything inappropriate! And you can't just act on behalf of the ministry! This is business of the state; you are misinterpreting your competences!"

"First of all, it's _Professor Snape, Potter! And I don't think you have exactly the knowledge of my competences, do you?" he snarled. Although Harry must have struck the nerve for Snape lowered his wand.  _

"Alright, we'll wait for the Ministry's representative. It won't take them very long. 

Now what are you **doing, girl?!" Snape suddenly yelled, turning to Grace again.**

Harry followed his eyes, full of panic.  

Grace had reached for her mobile phone, dialing furiously.  

"I'm calling the police! You're a mad man! You're dangerous! I won't sit around waiting for the next of you nutters come up here and…" 

"STUPEFY!" Snape screamed at the top of his voice. A bright red light came from the tip of his wand, hitting Grace across the chest. Her phone fell out of her hand, shattering on the floor. Her eyes opened widely, a look of uttermost terror on her beautiful face, she fell down to the couch laying there, motionless. 

"I cant believe you just, you just…" Harry yelled, not being able to find a word for what he just witnessed. He fell to his knees next to the couch, grasping one of Grace's hands which was dangling limply beside her. 

"Tell me you just didn't…! You just stunned an innocent muggle girl!"

"She was a threat! She was trying to phone these muggle law-keeper, no less!" Snape hissed, but not without a trace of panic in his own voice.

"We could have taken that phone away from her without the use of this **stunning spell**!!!" Harry's voice cracked. He observed Grace's face intensely for she didn't carry the look that was usually noticeable on the face of the victim of the stunning spell.

She looked absolutely miserable, pale as death, slightly covered in sweat. Her eyes were clouded over, staring glassy and lifeless. And…

there was a trail of blood trickling down out of the corner of her mouth, making its way down her chin. Her skin was as cold as ice. 

Harry took hold of her wrist, feeling her pulse only faintly with his trembling fingers.

"LOOK WHAT YOU DID TO HER!!!" Harry screamed at his potion's teacher! "She looks as if, … she looks as if,… NO, GRACE!" he buried his face on her shoulder, tears moistening the fabric of her top. 

Snape stepped closer to the couch, kneeling down besides Harry.

"This is most unusual… most unusual reaction." he muttered…

"What Do You Mean By That," Harry raised his tearstained face, looking into this hatefully composed face. 

"Normally they don't… well you know, I just can't think of why she… this unusual response…"

"What are you talking about? Is she…?" Harry was in no condition to utter the question he was most afraid of.

"Of course she is not dead, you fool!" Snape snarled. "But I'll have to get a healer to check on her. You wait here."

**"CRACK!"**

Snape disappeared into thin air, leaving Harry alone with the motionless girl. He picked up her hand, pulling it to his lips. 

  
"Stay with me, Grace. Hold on, there will be somebody to help you in a second. Just don't leave me," he pleaded with her, knowing that she would not respond. 

Putting his head on to her shoulder, he sobbed into her hair which was spread out on the couch. 

He heard somebody clear his throat, the sound coming from the direction of the door.  

Harry didn't look up for he knew who was standing there. 

The only person he could possibly imagine to be here in this time of devastation. 

The only person that would be here in his time of innermost need. 

The only person that came to his mind when he thought of help and the only one who could ever be able to help him now.

"Professor Snape did make a grave mistake, Harry. Even though he had no way of knowing this, he acted inconsiderately. Let us hope that it's not too late. For he didn't think of who he was addressing with his stunning spell!" 

***

Alright, tell me what you think! I hope you're not disappointed with where I'm taking this story. And I hope that all this wasn't too obvious :-). 

So just let me know what you think of it. 


	7. Tranquillitas Somnus

**Muffinlover: Thanks for being such a loyal reviewer of my story :-)  I love getting your opinion on it!! So: thank you :-)  I hope you're continuing your story as well, I really like it a lot!**

**Serebii: I know that Snape is not "totally evil", he was just at the wrong place at the wrong time… and I think of him as slightly evil… . Thanks for reviewing! **

**JVoldieme: Thank you. I was kind of hoping that it wasn't too predictable… I hope you continue reading and reviewing this story I highly appreciate it!**

**kyi18: Thanks :-) ! Here comes chapter 7, hope you like it!! **

**Devotion408: I'm glad that you liked my story! I hope you go on reading it. And hopefully you'll get to continue your story soon, cant wait till your next chapter!! **

**Sbys: Cant thank you enough for your support!! Thanks a Million! Your opinion is really important to me! **

Disclaimer: Obviously, none of the mentioned character belongs to me; they are either copyright and/or registered trademarks of J.K. Rowling, Warner Bros. 

„Professor Dumbledore…," Harry said in a sort of muffled voice for he still had his head buried into Grace's hair, which was laying on the couch.

"Professor, Sir, will she be alright? What do you mean Snape didn't know who he was addressing with his spell? She's just a muggle, right? Do these kinds of spells affect them differently?" 

Harry slowly raised his head, took off his glasses and tried to wipe the tears clinging to them away with his sleeve. He only worsened the state of them, but he couldn't care less. 

"Harry, this might come as a bit of shock." Dumbledore said calmly, stepping closer to the couch and placing one comforting hand onto Harry's shoulder.

"Let me have a look at her first."

  
Harry moved aside slightly, and for the first time managed to look at his Headmaster from Hogwarts, Professor Dumbledore.

He wasn't a bit surprised to see him here tonight. It has always been Dumbledore who had been there in times of greatest devastation, and especially tonight he couldn't have thought of anyone who'd be able to help him. 

But Dumbledore looked very different this night. Certainly, it hasn't been more than a couple of weeks when Harry was standing in his Headmaster's office, raging with fury, feeling as if he was about to bleed to death over the pain of Sirius' death.  

Reflecting on this incident he wouldn't say that he had lost respect for this man, for he was simply the greatest sorcerer of modern times, but he had to acknowledge that even Dumbledore wasn't without flaw, without inaccuracy. And that had taken away a piece of innocence, a reassurance he only had during the last years of his childhood and which had been taken away from him. He felt the profound sadness one only experiences after comprehension like this. For the world wasn't black and white, not good and evil but diverse shades of grey. 

Dumbledore was wearing a velvet cloak in dark blue which had millions of golden, twinkling stars attached to it and was trailing onto the ground. His half-moon spectacled glasses were sitting on the tip of his long, crooked nose over his long silver beard. He wore a pointed hat, matching his cloak in colour and material. In all he looked like the typical, fairy-tale wizard but Harry knew better. It wasn't for a lack of reasons that Dumbledore was said to be the only wizard Voldemort ever feared.

But right now the usually twinkling eyes were looking dark with sorrow and deep with worries. He directed his glance to Grace and back to Harry and back once more. 

"What is it, Professor? She will be alright, wont she?" Harry demanded of the old man. 

"I cannot tell you for certain yet, Harry. For as much as I want to assure you of this, I cannot help but worry…" 

"Please tell me what's going on! I've got a right to know," Harry pleaded with him. As much as the situation caused him to feel dreadful, it was the lack of certainty detectable in Dumbledore's voice that made him feel the worst. 

Usually he was the last resort he could always turn to. The one to be suggested when things went wrong or questions needed answering. 

"Harry, I'm afraid there's a lot that needs answering and I dare say we are not in the right situation to do so right now. There's a time to talk and there's a time to act. Things will be elucidated to you as soon as possible. 

Now if you moved aside, I would try to get your friend here back to consciousness. The healers will be arriving shortly as well." 

Harry moved, startled. Dumbledore didn't seem to put enough trust in the healers of the ministry to wait for their appearance. 

_Or did he suspect that there was not enough time? His stomach lurched painfully at the thought as he felt desolation invading him. _

He watched apprehensively as Dumbledore drew out his wand and pointed it at Grace. 

"**Expergiscor**!" he muttered, performing a slight wrist movement as he spoke. 

They both stared at the girl, still laying motionless on the couch. Dumbledore sighed and turned to Harry.

"It was worth a try. I don't know what the healers are going to do, but I hope…" he let his sentence trail off for they both span around at the sound of a person moving… 

Grace stirred and with what seemed to be immense difficult, she opened her eyes. 

"Grace! How are you feeling? I'm so glad you woke up!" Harry gasped, struggling for breath while he took hold of her hand, which was still hanging droopily on her side, still cold as ice. Her fingers tightened the hold on his hand only slightly, as if she didn't have the strength to give it a real squeeze. 

"What happened? I… I can't remember that much. There was this awful man standing there all at once, where did he go? Is he still here?" 

Her eyes full of panic she tried to turn around to observe the room, but winced painfully at the attempt. 

"And who is this?" she panted, as her glance first fell upon Dumbledore, who had backed up a little as he saw her waking up, standing in the shadows next to the couch. 

"This is Professor Dumbledore, the Headmaster of my school. You don't have to be afraid, be still, you look miserable."

And that was unfortunately so true. She still was as pale as death, the blood which had run over her cheek started to dry of a little, giving her the dreadful look of someone who had just gotten out of fight. The shadows under her eyes only added to the miserable appearance. 

"I'm not feeling well, I know." She said, her voice shaking a little, sounding tremendously unsteady. 

"But I can't stay here, this is a mad house. - You're mad, too! Get your hands of me!" she suddenly exclaimed, pulling her hand out of his, jerking away from him as much as possible.  

"Grace, it's still me, Harry!" he said desperately. He was positively confused by her reaction, although he should have known. She was terrified and he couldn't blame her. 

Grace made an effort to try and get up, but she seemed to be terribly weak for she couldn't manage as much as to prop herself up on her elbows, her glance tensely flashing through the room, looking like a small animal facing a huge dragon. 

"Please, listen to me," Harry begged. "It will be alright, there will be somebody here in a minute," but this seemed to be the worst thing he could say.

"No, I'm not waiting for any other madcap to just _appear_ here, what are you thinking? I haven't completely lost my sanity!" 

But this outburst seemed to have been too much for she collapsed onto the couch subsequent to the attempt of getting up. 

She flinched out of pain, more blood appearing on the edge of her mouth, making its way down her cheek. Harry had never known that there was another, deeper shade of white until her face started to take on this ashen colour. 

"Professor, please! You have to do something," Harry addressed Dumbledore fearfully. 

Dumbledore nodded silently, got out his wand and pointed it at Grace, trying to bring this about unnoticed.

**„Tranquillitas Somnus," **he mumbled and at once the teenager on the couch relaxed and fell silent, her head resting quietly on a pillow, a fraction of a smile softening her features.

"What charm was that?" Harry said, intensely relieved that Grace seemed to have fallen into a soft slumber and now curiosity getting the better of him. 

"It is a tranquilizing sleeping charm, causing the addressee to sleep dreamlessly, but very soothingly. I thought that this should be the exact right one, in regard to the situation. 

The healers are a little late; they should have been here by now, transferring her to St. Mungo's."

"St. Mungo's?" Harry said, puzzled. "The hospital for magical maladies and injuries? But…,"

"Do you not think that _spell damage_ would best describe the condition she is in? If you can convince me differently, I'll be more than happy to hear you out, but I do not see any other way of curing her. This spell Professor Snape made use of might have caused even more damage than what meets the eye."

Harry felt definitely uneasy now, but he did not dare ask further question for at this precise moment a loud

**CRACK!**

penetrated the room, causing him to jump.

Two stern looking witches in white cloaks, all wearing the patch Harry had seen before in the hospital, displaying a crossed bone with a wand, appeared in the middle of the Dursley's living room, accompanied by an extremely old looking wizard, wearing a white cloak as well, with the same patch sewed to it. 

Harry couldn't help but think of how extremely mismatched this whole party seemed in the living room of his oh-so-normal aunt and uncle. 

The witches nodded to Harry and Dumbledore in silent salutation, stepped closer to the couch and roughly examined Grace. Then they professionally performed quite a few spells, with such ease and swiftness Harry could only make out a blur of wands and mumbled words. 

Next second Grace was wrapped in a few bandages, resting on a stretcher which was floating in midair. The witches turned to the wizard who now stepped closer, put golden spectacles on his nose and significantly examined the girl on the stretcher. 

"Well Dumbledore, it sure is nice to see you again," he eventually said, without looking up. 

"You will have to tell me how this tragic incident came about, of course. I shall need to know every detail so I can come up with the right treatment and the correct potion, as you well know. 

Dear, dear, this should not have happened… I guess you are aware of that, are you not?" At this the old wizard looked up at Dumbledore, frowning. 

"And goodness, by Merlin's beard, this can't be… Harry Potter!" he exclaimed, as he first sat eyes upon the teenage boy, sitting wearily on the couch, his head in his hands. 

"How is it possible that everything comes back to you, boy?" he asked, smiling resignedly.

"I do not know, Sir." Harry mumbled, slightly lifting his head. "But be assured that I do not intend this at any times." 

Even though he fought against it hard, he couldn't help but feel his temper rising. What did these people think he was trying to do? He was not the attention-seeking brat the Daily Prophet tried to promote the previous year. But it seemed to be hard for some people to accept it any differently. 

"Dumbledore, I will expect your visit in the afternoon of the next day! This girl needs relaxation and the right treatment. But I need information, as I'm sure you understand."

"Certainly I understand, Alvenius, I understand. I will be there for you to answer the entire range of questions you might have. But first allow me to tend to Harry here. He's been through a dreadfully stressful night and he needs help as well." 

"I'm fine Professor, I don't need anything. I just want to know,…" 

"You shall, at the accurate time, find that I am most willing to answer all your queries, Harry. But first, with your permission, let me perform the same tranquilizing sleeping charm on you as I did on the girl for I fear that you may need a few hours of relaxation yourself."

"I'm _fine, don't bother, Professor! I will just, … I'll just need to know what is going on!"_

"Please Harry, can you not put enough trust in your old headmaster to realize that I only try to do what is best for you?" 

"I believe you do, I just… I thought I could help, you know. And I don't think I'll be able to find any relaxation." 

At this Dumbledore smiled. "Believe me, you will. So if you agree, I will perform this charm on you and you will wake up very soon and find that everything has been taken care of. And I will be delighted to answer all the questions you might have."

Harry found it very disturbing to agree into being put to sleep. He felt helpless and completely out of charge, a feeling he despised more than anything else. But at the look of Dumbledore's face, he knew that he didn't have a real choice after all. And he completely trusted his Professor, so he nodded, reluctantly. 

"Very well, this will be for the best. Couldn't have suggested anything better myself, Albus." The wizard who Dumbledore had called Alvenius said in a rather smug voice Harry detested. 

"So I will see you soon, Professor?" Harry said, starting to feel rather nervous. He had the feeling of being about to be put into a deep anaesthesia, not exactly knowing what is going to happen next or if he was to wake up soon. 

"Certainly Harry, certainly," Dumbledore smiled at him, putting a soothing hand onto his shoulder and gave it a squeeze. 

"Now, if you're ready?" he asked calmly.

Harry nodded and leaned back on the couch, closing his eyes, a nervous tremble in the pit of his stomach. 

The last thing he heard was Dumbledore's deep, meaningful voice…

**"Tranquillitas Somnus"**

and he felt the innermost feeling of peace and reconciliation flooding through him, swiping away every nervousness and fear, forcing his eyelids to close and to drift of into a deep sleep… 

***

"Now don't you wake him! He needs rest, you know! Fred, George, keep these things in their proper place! In your silly store or in your… what do you call it now? Laboratory! _Childish, but anyhow. And has anyone seen Hermione? She's been gone for ages!"_

It was extremely difficult to shift for Harry. He was feeling so deeply peaceful and calm; his eyelids were so heavy he couldn't open them. He was laying on his back in something he could have sworn to be the cosiest bed he had ever felt. 

Feeling utterly peaceful he sighed contently, trying to open his eyes just a fraction. The room seemed to be rather dark although Harry could have sworn it would have been daytime. His vision was rather blurred for he wasn't wearing his glasses. 

He moved his left hand, feeling for something like a bedside table where he'd expect his glasses to be. But he realized he couldn't move his hand because somebody was holding it firmly, caressing his fingers with their own. 

Surprised, he tried to sit up a little, but realized that all his strength must have been absorbed by this deep sleep he had just awoken from for he wasn't able to lift himself up, falling into his big pillow once again. 

"Harry," the person sitting next to him whispered and the next thing he was aware of was Hermione's upper half, clinging to his chest, her brown curly hair covering most of his face, and tickling his neck. 

With immense difficulty he managed to put his right arm around her, pulling her closely to him, relishing the comforting feeling of warmth of her body so close to his own. 

"Harry, I was so worried about you," Hermione sniffed in a rather muffled voice, for her head was buried in Harry's shoulder. 

"Dumbledore told us what has happened. Oh Harry, I could curse Snape," she mumbled and he felt her tremble against him. 

"It's ok, Mione," he finally managed to say. "He couldn't have known, really."

She looked up at him, her eyes all red and puffy from crying. 

"I know, but he could have checked, really. I feel so sorry for you." 

Tears started to rise into her brown eyes again and Harry drew her closer, yet again. He felt her arms wrap around him once more. 

"Everything will be alright, I promise. Dumbledore gave me his word that he will explain everything later. Grace should be alright before long, too. Don't worry."

Hermione tightened her hold on him, turning her head a little so he could feel her warm breath on the delicate skin of his neck as she spoke. 

"It's not only the girl, Harry." she said softly and he felt his pulse rising. "Snape was about to deliver rather bad news…." Harry was completely baffled as she planted a soft kiss on his neck.

"I'm so glad you're here with us now. We will get through this, you and me and Ron. The way we always do…" 

***

_A/N: You know what you have to do if you want to let me know what you think about this! So leave a review for me, let me know what you think. Hate it, like it? Any ideas what's going to happen next? Let me know… :-)   _


	8. Potio Lacrima Draught of Tears

**Muffinlover: As always: Thank you **so **much for always leaving such a nice review for me! I appreciate it!!! And it's great that you keep on guessing what is going to happen next and everything. Lets me know that you're interested in my story and that's wonderful :-)**

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**Devotion 408: This chapter is longer than the previous one :-)**

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**ItshardtoloveHermy: Thanks a Million!!! It's great that you continue to read my story! **

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**JVoldieme: Hope this chapter is going to clear things up a little :-)**

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**Lena****: Here it comes… Hope you continue reading it and thanks for the nice review!**

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**Sbys: I cant even tell you how much your support means to me! ****Thank you sooo much for helping me with this chapter and everything!!!!! I cant wait for chapter 7 of your story!! Please update quickly :-)**

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**Disclaimer: None of the recognized characters belongs to me, they are either copyright and/or registered trademarks of J.K. Rowling, Warner Bros. **

Everyone was there, packed into various rooms at the old, undetectable house which was Number 12, Grimmauld Place. Everyone except Snape, for which Harry was most thankful. 

As he sat down at the big table, he let his eyes wander, taking in every detail of this familiar place. It pained him beyond belief to be back in Sirius' house where memories haunted him at every corner, and every room and at the sight of every piece of furniture. 

He was shocked at first, naturally, that he had been brought here while under the influence of the sleeping charm. He was hurt as well; couldn't anybody imagine what it must feel like to be here for him? But he realized that the Order of the Phoenix still used Sirius' estate as their hiding and meeting place for good reason. Since undetectable places were extremely rare, he came to the conclusion that this was probably still for the best.

He wondered for a second who, if anyone, would become heir to Sirius' possessions, and if his godfather had thought of making a will. He doubted this since Sirius was still so young and healthy and surely not thinking about death. He swallowed thickly, ignoring the familiar stinging at the back of his eyes.

Concerned faces met his glance everywhere he looked. Shortly before the meeting began, Harry rose from the table one more time to go back upstairs. He couldn't stand sitting there, in painful silence and having the others stare at him with their sympathetic looks and not saying much, if anything, to him. He was about to open the door to the room he figured he'd share with Ron again, when he felt somebody pat him on the back. He spun around. 

"Hello, Harry," said a deep voice and a man with long black, untidy hair looked at him, smiling. 

_"Hi, Sirius," Harry smiled back at his godfather. "It's so good to see you again. Eventually I might add," he pretended to frown._

_"Yes I know, I'm sorry. We should have come after you much earlier. I, of all people, know what it feels like to be stuck somewhere you really don't want to be, you know?" Sirius smirked. "But let me look at you. It's been a while, right?" He took hold of Harry's shoulders, shaking him a little and then pulling him into a big hug. "I want to show you something." He said, after he released him. _

_"Alright," Harry grinned. "What is it? Some illegal Marauders' utensil?" _

_"Oh, so close, so close," Sirius grinned broadly. "Your father would be very proud of you, Harry," Sirius added thoughtfully, in a more serious tone. _

_"You've been through an awful lot of things… You have seen so much more than you should have. Be assured that you are the bravest person I know, Harry! And whatever more burden might lay in your way, you can always turn to me, you understand? I'm your godfather! I'm here to help! Remember that," he added in a more cheerful tone, slapping Harry on the back so hard that he coughed. _

_"Alright mate, I understand! Hey, Sirius?" _

_"Yes, Harry?" _

"I'm really glad that you're my godfather! I just wanted you to know." He felt a heavy weight lifting of his chest, having made sure that Sirius knew how much he cared for him. 

_"Now that was really kind of you. But hey, don't look so gloomy, I'm about to show you something really fascinating. You're father and I spent hours fooling around with this item… Very secret you know?" _

_"Ok Sirius, I understand! I'm not as thick as you think I am!" Harry grinned widely, and followed his father's friend into the room. _

_But as he looked around, the room was excruciatingly empty. As empty as the floor he just left. As empty as his heart. _

Harry leaned against the wall, jerking his glasses from his face, and burying his face in his hands. It had seemed so real. The pain was about to tear him apart, ripping his soul from his body. He truthfully imagined talking to Sirius just now, and it was almost more than he could stand. 

He gradually slid to the floor, his back to the wall. He pulled his legs towards him, embracing his legs with his arms. The weight of the world seemed to have been put on his shoulders by the feel of this anguish. He came to realize that this torment would never really leave him for Sirius's death caused him to be injured profoundly, leaving an everlasting scar. Not like the one visible on his forehead, but one which was untraceable by others, but so evidently in his soul. 

He was sobbing silently, his hands running through his untamable black hair. 

He was like this when Hermione found him. Without a word she sat down beside him and pulled him into the tightest embrace, silently rocking him back and forth, mutely soothing the pain in his soul and easing it just a bit. 

After what seemed no less than ten minutes, Hermione pulled away, gave him a wobbly smile and then grabbed his hand and led him downstairs, still not speaking a word for which he was most thankful. 

After entering the room, Lupin came over to him and pulled him into a fatherly hug as soon as he set eyes on him. He mumbled something Harry could not understand properly, but as he drew back he saw the eyes of his former (and still his most favourite of all) professor shimmering moistly. 

Harry had spent some time over the summer thinking what it must feel like for Remus Lupin to lose his best friend, the last of the famous Marauders, if one leaves out Peter Pettigrew, nick-named Wormtail, formerly known as a Marauder, presently better known as Lord Voldemort's faithful servant… 

For a slight moment a terrifying thought came to Harry's mind. _What would it be like for him, Harry, to lose one of his closest friends? Ron or Hermione? _

He did not dare follow this thought for it made him feel, if possible, even more dreadful than before. Plus he simply could not imagine losing either Ron or Hermione for he felt an alarming certainty deep within him that he could not go on without them. 

Abandoning these morbid contemplations, Harry sat down at the table and subconsciously took a look at the scar on his arm, where Wormtail's dagger had pierced his skin, while being tied on a tombstone, abusing his blood to resurrect Voldemort. This scar, as the one on his forehead, will stay with him forever, a gruesome reminder of this horrifying night. 

Tonks sat right across the table, looking at Harry with a sort of forced smile on her face. She had altered her appearance yet again, this time wearing a wild mane of greenish curls, a huge crooked nose (similar to Dumbledore's) and eyes of a brownish colour. Harry was surprised by her creativity, thinking of different looks so often. Kingsley Shacklebolt was sitting next to Tonks, two Aurors at his side that were introduced to Harry as new members of the Order. One was a young blonde witch with the name of Mathilda Buttercup. She was rather pretty if it wasn't for an extremely big, oddly coloured wart on the very tip of her nose, which caught everyone's attention fast, to her misfortune. 

But, as Fred and George (who were obviously present, as Harry had heard from his bedroom while ago) whispered into Harry's ear, this was a nothing short of a "magic wart". 

"You wouldn't believe us if we told you, she can do amazing things with it! Let's say that our Extendable Ears are nothing short of rubbish compared to that sensor on her nose!" Fred said, excitedly. 

The other Auror was an extremely old wizard by the name of Flavius Floorstep, tremendously experienced in Defense against the Dark Arts, but unfortunately his reflexes began to slow down gradually. These two new members agreed to join the Order as soon as they had the information of Voldemort's return confirmed by the Ministry. 

*** 

Harry had experienced a deeply warm welcome by Mrs. Weasley, who shrieked at the first sight of him, walking down the staircase to the living room for the second time, closely followed by Hermione. 

"Harry, dear! How are you feeling? You still look quite clammy! Let me have a look at you!" She pulled him into a tight hug, squeezing him until he thought all air must have disappeared from his lungs. After she released him, she pushed away his hair, feeling his forehead. "Now this sleeping charm does tire the person it is given to. You should rest a little more," she said firmly.

"I'm fine; I just need to speak to Professor Dumbledore quickly. He promised me that he would be telling me what's been going on," Harry responded, trying hard to sound extremely well off and determined. Eventually Mrs. Weasley couldn't force him into going back to his bedroom and told him to go into the living room to meet the others, even though she did so very reluctantly. 

*** 

A rather uncomfortable silence was filling the room as everybody was occupied by his or her own thoughts, all joined in waiting for the arrival of Dumbledore. Harry took a sip of the Butterbeer in front of him, smiling at Ron and Hermione, who were sitting on either side of him, watching him closely. It now felt good to be around them once more, he only wished it wasn't in a tense situation like this. His stomach lurched in anticipation, not knowing what to expect and nervously waiting for Dumbledore to arrive. Suddenly, he realized someone else besides Snape was missing. 

"Where's Mundungus Fletcher?" he asked, his words penetrating the quiet and making everybody look up. The expressions on their faces were nothing short of shock as the members of the Order of the Phoenix all exchanged nervous glances. 

Hermione let out a small sob, drawing Harry's attention to her only.

"What is it, Hermione?" he demanded. "What has been going on? Will somebody start telling me? I feel like I'm sort of out of the loop here and I'm starting to dislike that quite a bit!" He didn't care if he sounded rude anymore. This was simply unfair. 

His temper was flaring, threatening to come close to boiling point and at a disturbingly high speed. Hurt and anger were a hazardous combination, as he came to realize quickly. Hermione looked terrified at his outburst, looking to the others for help. Lupin simply shrugged, muttering something inaudibly again. 

Fortunately, they were spared an answer as the rotating green flames in the fireplace on the side of the room announced Dumbledore's arrival. And sure enough, a second later an old, yet great wizard stepped out of the fire, adjusting his robes in a swift movement of his wand, causing them to lay as flawlessly as they ever could. 

"I apologize for the delay," Dumbledore said, looking at everybody as he spoke, making each and every one of them feel as if he solitary talked to them. "But I still had very important matters to attend to. So if you please forgive me." He made his way around the table while he was speaking, taking a seat at the head of the table, looking around at each person present. "Harry, I see that you have awoken. I am glad to see you in good health." 

"Professor," he started, conscious of the fact that no one had given him any answers yet. "I don't mean to be rude or anything, but you promised me…" 

"Yes, Harry, yes I promised you and I intend to keep that promise. If you let me have my say, I am confident that you'll find I'll cover most of your questions and if I - may this be the case - , did not satisfy your concerns, you will find that I will be delighted to answer any other questions you have." 

"Um, alright," was all that Harry managed to reply to this monologue of Dumbledore's. 

"I'm sure your first question will be concerning the whereabouts and the condition of Miss Grace Kralyevich. I am pleased to inform you that she is doing much better and the healers are making excellent progress. She will be up and in good physical shape before long. Although I'm afraid she'll have to remain in St. Mungo's hospital for quite a bit. You will, however, be able to visit her sometime tomorrow, I suppose. The memory charm has not been performed on her yet since there are still a few matters that need to be tended to. As I am going to explain in a minute," Dumbledore added as he saw not only Harry, but several of the others about to question him about this. 

"Well, as I am optimistic you already noticed, your new friend is somewhat extra-ordinary, Harry. She is a muggle, yes, but as we all have a past we do not know everything about, it is your acquaintance that has one past of most unusual distinction." 

Harry felt himself tense at this, hardly able to hide his nervousness.

"I should be right when I suspect that you felt particularly attracted to this girl, is this not so?" Dumbledore asked, the first hint of a smile on his face. 

Harry blushed furiously, noticing Ron smirk at this while Hermione's eyes were fixed on something on the opposite wall of the room, nibbling on her lower lip. 

"Be this as it may," Dumbledore continued. "But I am sure that you, since you attended the Quidditch Worldcup two years ago, could not restrain yourself from comparing her to a Veela, am I correct?" he asked, looking at Harry intensely. 

Harry took in a sharp breath. Now this could just not be true. It would have been too obvious, his first thought ever was that Grace had to be a Veela, simply because of her looks and the effect she had on him. He noticed the members of the Order, along with his friends and the Weasley family murmuring to each other, whispering something he could not make out.

"Well, yeah, but she can't be? She would have told me, I'm sure…" he let his sentence trail off for it sounded stupid in his own ears. 

"She would have, maybe, but she did not simply because she is not a Veela," Dumbledore carried on. "The night of the unfortunate attack of Professor Snape, I sent Fawkes to her parents, delivering the message of her being transferred to St. Mungo's. As I'm sure you agree, Fawkes has a very sensitive way of delivering bad news. I visited with her parents the same night, finding out more about her daughter. And things started to become clearer to me… Grace is no Veela, she is as much a muggle your cousin Dudley, Harry. But she has a Veela in her heritage and not just a usual that is," he paused to catch his breath before continuing.

"Veelas are said to be the spirits of unbaptized women, roaming the Earth without ever finding peace. We know better though. 

Veelas are nature spirits, pure and powerful as fairies and elves. They are known to occasionally fall in love with mortal men, giving up their immortality in order to live an earthly life, side by side with the one they love. About four hundred years ago the first Veela to take this step was one of the name of Clemencia. It is she that wedded a mortal man, a muggle, and was punished by her kind by losing her immortality. Which from then on became the common punishment following that sort of misdeed. It was this Veela your friend descends from. And who do you think might have knowledge of this and employ it for his uses?" 

Harry simply sat there, starring at his Headmaster. This was too much information to comprehend at once. He felt a small hand slip into his, giving him a reassuring squeeze. He turned to look at Hermione, whose eyes were glistening unnaturally. 

"I must tell you Harry, that there is someone who has been tirelessly looking for an opportunity like this, determinedly working on a mission, coming closer to its realization than we would have feared. For it is Mundungus Fletcher who had bravely taken advantage of an opportunity to sell some, well some of his _goods to a well-known Death Eater, finding out enormously important information and putting his life at risk doing so. _

"Voldemort has gained knowledge of a magic, darker and more ancient than any of us can comprehend. It has been thought of by the most sinister wizards of the earliest times, with qualities and effects of which I am afraid to talk about even now. It was this information Professor Snape intended to deliver that night." 

Several of the people flinched at the sound of Voldemort's name, but Dumbledore completely ignored this and went on. "But I came to realize that you will have to know about all of this, I will not be guilty of the same mistake as I was before; not telling you all of the most important issues." Dumbledore sighed heavily at this, pinching his nose with two of his fingers and rubbed his eyes as if he had difficulties with his vision. "It is called," Dumbledore hesitated momentarily. "It is called the Potio Potentia Veneficus, the Most Powerful Magical Potion. Or it is also known as the Potio Lacrima, the Draught of Tears." 

Many people gasped at this, Tonks let out a shriek and her green hair turned grey in the speed of a heartbeat, Mrs. Weasley took hold of Mr. Weasley's hand, squashing it vehemently. 

"But, Professor Dumbledore, this potion is a legend, a myth; it is not in existence, is it?" Lupin broke the muttering with his deep clear voice, silencing the others. "Obviously I heard many speak of it, but it is as much sought and longed after as the Holy Grail is by numerous of legendary Muggles. Nobody has ever sat eyes upon it and many have died in the attempt of seeking it. It combines the most ancient and most powerful supremacy's of all magical beasts in one single potion, giving the one who possesses it tremendous power, beyond compare!" Lupin continued. 

"I'm thankful for this summary of its powers, Remus," Dumbledore smiled. "What you said was most correct, besides one important deciding factor. The comparing of it to the Holy Grail might be appropriate in pointing out the human's desire after it, but the impulse for these quests is so different." Dumbledore sighed heavily. "As you already said, the Grail is thought to be _Holy_ while the Potion of Tears is most _devilish_. The person seeking it does so out of the uttermost desire of power, supremacy and the enslavement of others. As such, I guess all of you can think of no one but Lord Voldemort, combining these cravings in one person, am I right?" 

Harry felt as if he had run headfirst into a solid brick wall. This sounded too terrible to be true. Voldemort brewing a most powerful potion? He pinched his arm, hoping to wake up in the backyard of Privet Drive, next to him a glass of ice cold pumpkin juice. But his right hand was still clasping Hermione's, whose fingers had become steadily icier throughout Dumbledore's speech. 

"Now, Professor," Harry managed to croak hoarsely after a while. "Does this mean that the Order has to prevent Voldemort from ever getting hold on this potion?" 

"I'm afraid, it is harder than this," Dumbledore heaved a sigh. "Because the potion is not in existence it cannot be protected. Therefore, it is the various ingredients that have to be kept secure from him. Do you recall that Voldemort is seeking alliance with all magical creatures? The Dementors, the Giants and so forth? It is because of this Potion, we have come to realize. One of the most primordial powers is possessed by no other than the Veelas. But since they are most pure and untainted creatures, they cannot be tempted to join the power Voldemort promises them. So the Dark wizard seeks to lure one of them into his snare on different paths. And it is your friend that has proven a suitable opportunity! There still remain powers within her, waiting to be stimulated, brought to life by just a simple magic. Many of us now fear that Professor Snape's stunning spell might have done just that. But this has not yet been confirmed, so hopes are still up. I do not know what would happen if our fears prove to be true. She might have to be send into hiding and this would be difficult to explain to her and her parents. It is not much which is needed from the Veelas for the Potio Lacrima, the Draught of Tears. And therefore it is nothing which would be difficult to gain from an innocent, unknowing "muggle girl" such as your friend." Dumbledore stopped, obviously exhausted. 

Harry looked around in a sort of trance. 

_This is horrible, was all he managed to think while looking at the other faces, some which were pale, while others looked exhausted and rather fearful. He propped up his elbows on the table, placing his head in his hands. _

_Why must misery find me, wherever I go, no matter what I do? he thought, yet again, a fierce headache causing him to flinch. He then heard somebody whisper close to his ear. _

"Don't worry, Harry. It is as I told you. We'll get through this together. Everything's going to be ok!" 

***

A/N: That was chapter 8… Hope you all liked it. Reviews are most welcome… since it's the only way to let me know what you think about it :-)

Thank you and see you next time… 


	9. Fairy lights

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**Muffinlover:** What can I say… except that I appreciate it so so much that you come back so loyally to leave such a nice review at every one of my new chapters!!! THANK YOU!!! :-) !!!!!

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**Kyi18:** thank you :-) I was really hoping that it made sense and seemed plausible to everyone who'd be reading it… I wasn't sure at first, but, thanks to **sbys** it started to become clearer and more understandable… for I sometimes don't know myself what I'm trying to say ;-) 

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**Tonks85:** Nooo, don't hex me!! :-) Or I'll call you Nymphadora! Haha, j/k… Here comes chapter 9, I hope you like it and thanks for your review! 

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**JVoldieme****: Thanks so much again, for a very nice review! Hope you're continuing to read this and hopefully you'll like the next chapter :-)**

------ Ok, this chapter is dedicated to… **sbys!!! For it wouldn't have been posted at all if you didn't help me with it!! So thanks SO MUCH! I could try to say how much this means to me, but I guess that would take up quite some time… :-)**

I'm just really grateful for all your suggestions and that you take the time to help me with this! **It means so much!**

And if anyone wants to read a really great story!: then you should go and read the two posted by sbys!  I'm afraid I'm going to repeat myself by now, but…: CANT WAIT FOR CHAPTER 7!!! 

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**Disclaimer**: None of the recognized characters belongs to me, they are either copyright and/or registered trademarks of J.K. Rowling, Warner Bros

The sun was setting just below the horizon and even though it was getting dark gradually, Harry, Ron and Hermione sat on a blanket under a huge oak tree in the backyard of Grimmauld Place. No one spoke, each of them contemplating silently, too troubled to voice any concerns just yet.   
  
Dumbledore's revelation had been too much too soon for them all to comprehend even the slightest bit. It had come as a complete horrific surprise for Harry and he imagined his friends felt equally distressed by it.   
  
All three of them were leaning against the big trunk of the tree, watching a couple of garden gnomes playing an odd version of football with an over-sized walnut. Their high-pitched chattering along with the last chirping of some birds were the only sounds audible on this last hour of the afternoon.   
  
Ron was tossing a quaffle back and forth, absentmindedly. Since he made the Gryffindor Quidditch team last year his confidence had gone up immensely, especially after assuring Gryffindor's victory at the Quidditch Cup.   
  
Harry was greatly happy for him, as he knew Ron didn't always cope well with the situation of being the sidekick of the famous "Boy Who Lived" to others. And Harry didn't blame him in the least. He only wished he could point this out to his best friend.   
  
He then turned his head to face Hermione and to his amazement, the girl with the brown bushy hair was rocking back and forth tensely looking as if she was just itching to say something.   
  
"Now what is it, Hermione?" Harry asked her, his voice sounding rather lethargic for he still felt the effects of the sleeping charm Dumbledore had put on him the previous night. He wondered when they would eventually wear off.   
  
"Well, I just can't, I just can't wait to…"   
  
Their conversation caught Ron's attention at once, making the red-haired boy, who had seemed to have grown even more in the past weeks and adding to his lanky appearance, turn around to face them.   
  
"Hermione, are you alright? What is it you can't wait to do?" Ron asked her, equally astound by the sight of her.   
  
"Isn't it obvious?" she looked at the two boys in surprise. "I mean, what Dumbledore just told us," she gestured with her hands.  "Doesn't it make you wish you were at Hogwarts? At the _library _of course?" she added, sounding as if she was pointing out the simplest of all conclusions to some toddlers.   
  
"Oh why didn't I know," Ron groaned, turning back to throwing the quaffle in the air and then catching it with the obvious ease of someone who completely felt comfortable with what he was doing.   
  
Harry couldn't restrain a broad grin himself. Of course, he should have known. If there was a problem, any problem, Hermione would be the one to bring up the library.   
 

Although in this particular matter, he couldn't figure out what exactly it was that Hermione was hoping to find out, especially about this type of magic. If he'd understood Dumbledore correctly, this was an ancient and powerful sort, and, considering that Voldemort himself only gained knowledge of it, obviously secret and almost forgotten as well.

  
"It just doesn't feel right to sit here leisurely while V-Voldemort," she stuttered out. "Is gathering up followers, getting them to join their powers for this Draught of Tears." Hermione started playing with some strands of her curly hair, twisting them around her finger, pulling them as far until they were straight and then releasing them to have them spiral up again.   
  
Harry caught himself watching her in a kind of hypnotized state. Feeling completely worn-out seemed to have this effect on him: lethargic and tired he couldn't concentrate on the important subject which lay at hand, no, it made him goggle at his best friend, who was, at present, fooling around with her hair.   
  
"Um," he cleared his throat. "This might just be the advantage we have."   
  
"What do you mean?" Ron asked, curiously. "I don't really see any advantages in having You-Know-Who brewing up some ruddy potion which makes him do all kinds of stuff I don't even want to think about," he shuddered.   
  
"For the sake of Merlin, Ron, will you please start saying Voldemort's name? Once and for all?" Harry demanded angrily. "Hermione says it, Dumbledore says it, Sirius says…" he broke off, feeling as if somebody had just forced a dagger through his throat and cut off his speech.   
  
The other two looked at him, shocked at his reaction.   
  
"Sirius _said_ it." Harry continued, his voice shaky. "And if there is a way we'll be able to defeat him, we have to start making everybody realize that it's irrational to be scared by the mere sound of his name. Brave people have lost their lives fighting him, it would be a disgrace to their memory to not even speak the name of Voldemort, don't you think?"   
  
Ron flinched at the sound of the Dark Lord's name, every time Harry said it. Nevertheless he nodded reluctantly, his face growing paler under his millions of freckles.   
  
"You're right mate. I won't be sitting here like some bloody coward, not even saying the name of You-Know…"   
  
"RON!!" Harry and Hermione yelled in unison.   
  
"Of you know, V-Voldemort I was meaning to say," he shot them disapproving looks "Ronald Weasley, a coward? No, sir! V- Voldemort, he's tried stuff like this before though. This reminds me of that bloody philosopher's stone in our first year."   
  
"In some ways it does," Hermione said, apparently deep in thought. "But it's so different, too.   
I mean, _honestly_, this time he tries to gather magical creatures and entice them into helping him to get his stinking hands on the most powerful miraculous potion. Oh, I can't wait to go and look for something on it in the library. Figure it will be in the restricted section?"   
  
Harry moaned, mostly out of wanting to tease Hermione. She was so predictable, he sometimes thought he could read her like a book himself. Out of the restricted section that is.   
  
"Dumbledore does seem really worried," Ron said, in a more earnest tone, rather seldom to be heard from him, therefore having a greater impression on his friends.   
  
"There's the one advantage that we've got," Harry assumed. "We can hope for some of the creatures to not join him. The potion can't be accomplished without the help of all of them, as far as I understood it. You know what Hagrid told us, what a ruddy hard time he and Madame Maxime had trying to get the giants to speak to them on friendly terms? Well I guess the Deatheaters, the one that remain that is," he smirked unpleasantly, "they won't have it very much easier. But then again, some creatures that haven't been treated well by wizard-kind, like goblins, they might be tempted, you know," he frowned.   
  
"Yeah, and what about… _House elves?" Hermione shifted a little in her sitting position, trying to make her look more impressive, as Harry figured, grinning.   
  
"They've been treated like filth and sure enough this behaviour will backfire on us. But as I see it, there's still time! If you only put a little more effort into S.P.E.W., we could easily improve their conditions and…"   
  
"By Merlin's beard, I could eat a manticore, couldn't you?" Ron interrupted her loudly, standing up and brushing the dry leaves and grass off his pants.   
  
"How about I bring some sandwiches and some pumpkin juice or something out here and we'll have a picnic under the tree? Celebrating reunion?" he smirked.   
  
"Sounds good, Ron," Harry grinned back at him.   
  
"And when I come back I want to know all about this muggle girl," Ron winked at him. "Once a heartthrob, always a heartthrob, huh Harry?" With this Ron turned around, wandering off to the Grimmauld Place, leaving Harry and Hermione sitting under the shades of the tree.   
  
"I have no idea what he's playing at," Harry mumbled, deeply embarrassed. His cheeks turned a lighter shade of red, remembering the last night with Grace, still feeling her passionate kisses burning on his lips…   
  
"Harry?" Hermione tugged on his shirt, making him wake up from his trance. "What's up with you," she demanded, frowning.   
  
"It's nothing, I'm ok," he said, not daring to look at her. If there was one thing he knew, it was that Hermione would certainly know how to interpret his expression, reading his emotions in the deep emerald green of his eyes as if he was clearly writing them out on a parchment.   
  
"I know that you're not," she said softly, placing her little hand on his arm, her slender fingers squeezing it slightly. "This has been a lot again, I can't believe how much you have to go through year after year," she whispered.   
  
Harry turned around to look at her, surprised by her words. This sounded so unlike the Hermione that he knew so well, inside out. His Hermione was the one that just sat with him a couple of minutes ago, anxiously awaiting the moment she could get her hands on the dusty volumes of the library once more, analyzing the topic until there was nothing left to be cleared.   
  
But this Hermione, sitting next to him, her eyes wide and glistening, desperately searching his face for something she could not make out, she was so different.   
  
"I'll be alright, Mione," he said, trying to sound reassuring. Out of reflex he placed his hand on top of hers, covering it totally for he just realized how small her hand was compared to his own.   
  
"I wanted to thank you," he added, remembering just a couple of hours ago when he was crying in Hermione's arms as if there was no tomorrow. "For, you know, just then…" he mumbled.   
  
"I know," she said simply. "It's ok, it was my pleasure. I wished I could help you more," she fixed her glance upon his face again. Noticing her stare he forced his head up and their eyes locked.   
  
Her eyes were of a deep cocoa-coloured brown, the setting sun illuminating golden sprinkles in the centre. Usually he remembered them gleaming energetically, sparkling of curiosity and ambition, aching to find out more about what she was just reading or being lectured about, might it be the ingredients of the _Dense – Darkening Potion_ or the _Proper Transfiguration of any household good into a functional writing quill_.   
  
It scared him to see her like this. She was paler than he ever remembered her to be, let alone the incident when she had been petrified at the sight of the Basilisk's reflection in their second year.   
Her lips were trembling, her eyes awfully moist, like two deep pools of chocolate, about to spill over.   
  
"Mione," he asked her awkwardly, not exactly knowing how to cope with this new situation, a Hermione not full of self-confidence but a Hermione that seemed to be deeply distressed.   
  
"It's nothing," she said, sobbing softly, proving her previous words wrong in doing so. "I'm just so worried about… about what is going to happen if that girl really has been turned into some kind of Veela and… and Voldemort is actually going to get his hands on her power… and what will happen to… to you." she finally choked. "I know that you will be involved in a fight with him, you always are," she sniffed. "I just don't… I can't stand it…"   
  
It really seemed to have been too much for her for she eventually threw her arms around Harry's neck, catching him off-guard and made him stumble a little, until he situated himself against the trunk again, tightening his hold on Hermione.   
  
"I don't want anything to happen to you," she cried into his shoulder, slightly drenching the fabric of his shirt with her tears.   
  
"Dumbledore said we're going to visit Grace tomorrow." Harry said, more to sooth her pain than to enlighten her with some reassuring information, for he perfectly well knew that Hermione knew about this.   
  
He patted her on the back a little, not exactly feeling comfortable with the situation. What was he to do to ease her obvious pain? There was nothing more she didn't know herself. But he came to realize that this seemed exactly to be the way to make her feel a little bitter for her sobs started to die down a little.   
  
She eventually lifted a tearstained face up to him, giving him a wobbly smile. "Here I am, crying all over you," she said, drawing back, looking a little embarrassed.   
  
"Well, I just cried over you, did I not?" he tried to joke with her.   
  
"I'm just being silly… I'm so sorry…"   
  
"Don't be, Hermione! I'm really glad that I'm back here with all of you. Makes things easier. Although I still think this time alone at Privet Drive might have exactly been what I needed at that time. Who could have thought that some dangerous part-Veela-girl would be waiting there for me, about to be cursed by our darling potions masters, possibly re-activating her powers and luring her into Voldemort's snare?" he grinned at her mockingly.   
  
Hermione shifted slightly, leaning her back on the tree trunk again and in one swift movement she turned to let her head rest on Harry's shoulder.   
  
His breath caught for a second. She had done this before, millions of times obviously. When the three of them had been sitting in the Gryffindor common room countless times, talking until way past midnight, in front of the crackling fire…   
  
But this was the first time she had done so with only him around and it felt different to have her so close to him. _

He dizzily remembered the way he had woken up, Hermione clinging to his chest, so close to him again. He looked at the top of her head, remembering only two days ago a different girl leaning against him, her hair not brown and bushy but wavy and silvery.   
  
"Tell me about this girl," Hermione muttered.   
  
"I, I don't know what to tell you about her," he stuttered, utterly surprised by this question. He felt much more comfortable telling Ron about Grace and how he found her stunningly beautiful, how astound he was when she proclaimed her affection towards him. But it felt strange to inform Hermione about this. "I mean, you're going to meet her tomorrow, won't you?"   
  
"Haven't decided," Hermione mumbled. "I don't know if I want to meet her actually." She said, her voice sounding a little harsh all of a sudden. "How can somebody wander around, not knowing they are of Veela heritage? I mean come on, how thick can you get?" she said ruthlessly.   
  
"Hermione," Harry was kind of shocked by her vigorous reaction. "She's only a muggle, how do you think she could have gotten her hands on information like this? It's not exactly in your birth certificate, you know?"   
  
"Ha!" Hermione spat, standing up abruptly. "I'm going inside, I'm not hungry." she said, without looking at Harry one more time.   
  


He watched her utterly bewildered, not knowing what to make out of this. He could have sworn he heard her mumbling something like "Couldn't have known… _really_…" while she stormed off to the old house, nearly stepping on one of the gnomes that was serving as "goal"-keeper, blocking an old tin can and squeaking angrily at her as she passed.   
  
Ron met her at the door, but she wouldn't turn around to look at him.   
  
Harry made room for Ron as he joined him under the tree, handing him a couple of delicious Weasley-sandwiches and a fresh bottle of Butterbeer.   
  
"Now mate, tell me about this bird you just happened to meet at that moldy Muggle-residence of yours," he smirked, nudging Harry with his elbow, grinning from one ear to another.   
  
Harry smirked back at him and started to tell him everything about his first encounter with Grace, their trip to the lake, her astounding ability of obviously nearly reading his thoughts and, of course, their intense snogging the night of Snape's "unfortunate mistake", as Dumbledore liked to refer to it.   
  
"Well pal, you seem to be one lucky bloke, you know that?" Ron grinned enthusiastically. "Not always of course, if you take away the ill-fated encounters with you and V-Voldemort and all. And the constant threats arising from that, but how come the great girls seem to swoon at your feet all the time? Can't be your looks, really!"   
  
***   
  
Like so many nights before, Harry simply couldn't find sleep. He caught himself wishing for one of Dumbledore's knock out sleeping potions again.   
  
He felt as tired as if he just chased a whole herd of full-grown blast-ended skrewts through the Forbidden Forrest, but still he felt his eyes jerk open at the slightest sound, tossing around in his bed, listening to Ron's soft snoring.   
  
He got up quietly, trying hard to not wake Ron up by some sudden sound. He found his way to the door, opening it, fearfully hearing it screech loudly. But Ron simply turned around, adjusting his position, his snoring even increasing.   
  
Relieved, Harry closed the door behind him, walking through the corridor until he reached the door that let out on a balcony, facing the backyard.   
  
He put his elbows on the balustrade, filling his lungs with the cold night's air.   
  
The backyard looked so peaceful in the moonlight, the tree tops graced with its golden light, the grass trembling in the midnight's breeze.   
  
Some celestial bits of light danced through the great majestic trees, providing the illusion that the mighty trees were adorned with tiny precious jewels.   
  
On a closer look Harry thought he detected wings on the golden lights, adding to his assumption that this must be some fairies on a night time promenade.   
  
The cool night air made him shiver slightly in his thin pyjamas. He wrapped his arms around himself, trying to get warm.   
  
He almost jumped in surprise when he felt two supplementary arms wrap around his waist, pulling him close. After the first shock he turned around, knowing for certain who this had to be for he had already recognized her scent of a light ocean's breeze, her favourite perfume.   
He turned around to see Hermione looking at him shyly, slightly blushing as she lightened her hold on him a little.   
  
"I heard your door screech, so I followed you. I couldn't find any sleep myself. And you looked as if you were really cold," her sentence trailed off.   
  
"I was Mione," Harry said, truthfully. And then, in sudden realization he added "Until you all came into my life, I was persistently cold."   
  


She smiled at him sadly. "I know Harry, I know…" 

He noticed how tiny and how young she looked in her white, silky nightgown, going down to her ankles, her skinny arms still wrapped tightly around him. 

Shifting a little he turned around, pulling her into a hug so she was standing before him now, facing the nighttime backyard with its magical creatures that made it look so breathtakingly beautiful. 

"Care to go on a nighttime stroll, Hermione?" he asked, giving her a last tight squeeze before releasing her. 

"I'd love to," she smiled back, taking his hand into her hers, leading him down the old, stony stairs that led into the park-like backyard of No. 12, Grimmauld Place…  

A/N: You know what you have to do if you want to let me know what you think about it… So, what are you waiting for ;-) ? 


	10. Revelations

_A/N: HUGE Thank you to **Sbys** for all your help and support! I appreciate it more than I can say!!! If it wasn't for you, the story would have ended with…_

_Chapter 7 or something :-)_

_Your suggestions/corrections are just wonderful. All this means so much!_

_Also I want to thank everyone who asked me to continue._

_Thanks for all the nice reviews I received! And whoever doesn't like this story: Go and read something else,_

_Something you like. Why don't you?_

**_Chapter 10_**

Disclaimer: None of the recognized characters belongs to me, they are either copyright and/or registered trademarks of J.K. Rowling, Warner Bros. 

Nighttime, Harry decided, was entirely different from day. Perhaps it was the fact that the darkness could turn everything cold and lifeless once the sun slipped behind the horizon, creating a world cloaked in black and gray, insensible to existence and unresponsive. Or maybe it was the way the blackness silenced all sound, leaving the world outside still and bleak. 

Perhaps these were the most prominent reasons for the little popularity the dark sibling of daytime enjoyed.  

  
He always cherished the solitude and comfort that night seemed to give him. It was his time to follow his own thoughts, reflect on what had been happening and what to expect the next time sun stretches out its arms of light over the horizon. And not to be forgotten was the fact that he hardly found any sleep in these past weeks following Sirius' death. So it was no surprise to him that night became his favourite.   
  
The velvet darkness covering  the garden of No. 12 Grimmauld Place provided it with a beauty unnoticeable by day. The moon peeked around the clouds, turning the treetops to silver.   
The surface of the lake in the far back of grounds was wrinkled playfully by the gentle breeze of the summer night.   
  
Following the twisting and winding stony path throughout the garden, Harry and Hermione's bare feet made little sound on the grey rock-strewn way, which was partially covered with dark green and slightly moist moss, incredibly soft to the touch. The trail wound its way through the whole garden, passing old monuments of stern looking wizards and witches, old weary looking fountains adorned with eerie stone figures, representing some magical creatures that Harry didn't even want to find out about.   
  
Neither of them had yet spoken a word and silence lay between them, parallel to the stillness of these hours of darkness. Their fingers were still entwined though. From the time when Harry led Hermione down the old rugged steps into the backyard of his godfather's estate, their hands had joined and neither had changed this situation. Hermione's light silky nightgown flew around her ankles with every step, just scarcely revealing her bare feet each time.   
  
It was she who broke the silence following a moment silent walking.   
  
"Do you want to go and sit beside the lake on the bench? There's something I need to tell you."   
  
Harry looked at her, walking next to him, her features illuminated by the moon.   
  
"Sure, let's go sit down. I hope you're not cold, Hermione? That thing you're wearing looks awfully thin!"   
  
Hermione gave him her best Professor McGonagall glance.   
  
"Certainly, I wouldn't be walking around here if I was cold. That is out of the question, Mr. Potter."   
  
He grinned at her. Of course it was. If somebody was to be awarded the "Mr. or Mrs. In-Control"- award, she would be the most promising candidate.   
  
They reached a little lake - well it was more like a pond - situated at the end of the garden. Stone benches were placed on three of its sides, welcoming the visitor to a quiet rest. A few toads seemed to inhabit the pond as well, their sounds blending with the soft sounds of nighttime birds.   
  
Cascaded by moonlight, several water lilies were visible, floating on the rippling surface, their petals stained silver in the dark. Little creatures that Harry couldn't make out exactly were hopping feverishly from one flower to the other, splashing each other with water in the process.   
  
Hermione led Harry to one of the stone benches, sat down and neatly folded her gown over her legs.   
  
"Alright, Hermione, I'm all yours. All listening." Harry said, looking at her with a grin.   
  
Her eyes were fixed on the ground; apparently looking at her feet. And sure enough she was nibbling on her lower lip, a good sign for imminent nervousness. Crossing her arms over her chest she led out a soft sigh. The wind picked up slightly, blowing several strands of hair into her face and she reached up to brush the locks aside.   
  
"Well, Harry, it's something I wanted to let you know. I hope you won't get me wrong though. I'm kind of… afraid to tell you," she said, still not looking up at him.   
  
"Alright, now you're disturbing me, Hermione," Harry said jokingly, hoping to reassure her. The fact that she was still fixing her eyes on her toes was troubling even more than the trace of nervousness detectable in her voice.   
  
Without even thinking about it he reached out, put his hand under her chin and gently lifted her head up to have her face level with his again. His success was not entirely the way he planned it, even though she lifted her face, her eyes still wandered tensely away from his, focusing on a tree behind him.   
  
Harry pulled his hand back and frowned at his best friend. What was it that she didn't find the courage to tell him? It couldn't be so bad as he could hardly think of anything awful that the three of them hadn't experienced yet. Well, sure there were things but, come on! What kind of disastrous scenario could severely scare him anymore?   
  
"What scares you, Hermione? Because the way you're behaving right now scares me," Harry said, noticing the agitated sound in his voice.   
  
"I'm afraid that you might think of this as a betrayal of our friendship," she whispered finally, her eyes still trained on the silver tipped tree.   
  
A slight breeze blew, sending several brown, untamable locks into her face again and Harry reached out and tucked those lose strands behind her ear, causing her to finally look him into the eyes.   
  
He rested his hand on her cheek just a brief moment and said, "You can tell me, Hermione. It can't be that hard, can it?"   
  
She gave him a wobbly smile and nodded slowly, her teeth still nibbling on her lower lip. "Alright," she finally gave into his steady gaze. "I'll tell you," she took a deep breath. "I was thinking about not going back to Hogwarts this year," she said, softly.   
  
Harry stared at her blankly. Now what in Merlin's name was that supposed to mean? He could make neither heads nor tails out of her statement for it wouldn't have made more sense if Hermione had just stated she wanted to join the Weird Sisters and tour Tolkien's Middle Earth.   
  
"Huh?" was the smartest thing Harry could muster to say.   
  
"Well, you know, I was thinking about going to another school. It would… certainly… be complementing my studies at Hogwarts and it would mean such an improvement to…"   
  
"Wait a minute," Harry cut her off, and held up his hand to stop her from speaking. "What exactly are you saying here? You want to go attend some muggle school?" He eyed her incredulously, unbelieving what his ears had heard. He gulped. "But Hermione, shouldn't you finish your education in the magical things first?"   
  
"Harry, I never mentioned anything about Muggle education," Hermione replied softly, her eyes suddenly glistening. "Of course I'd be going to a magical school. Just not Hogwarts."   
  
Realization was beginning to dawn. At the same time anger was swelling up inside him, causing his breath to hitch in his throat.   
  
"Durmstrang," he coughed hoarsely, the word leaving his lips in a snarl. "You want to go to school with Viktor, don't you? You're still together? These novel-long letters you've been writing to him in the common room?" he accused her, not giving her the chance to defend herself.  
  
Hermione stared at him, unblinking. "Harry? Are you insane?" she was finally able to break into his rant. "You think I'd transfer to some school fancied by Lucius Malfoy, located near the North Pole, and teaching classes of the Dark Arts?" she stared at him as if he'd lost his mind. "Do you think I've completely lost my marbles this summer? And no, it has nothing to do with Viktor. Quite the contrary… It has to do with everything but Victor…" she let the sentence trail off. 

Her eyes focused on the little creatures in the pond, rather than the tree behind him, that seemed to have started some sort of jumping competition, to the great annoyance of a family of fat green toads, sitting on a rock nearby.   
  
"Hermione, if you don't tell me in the next few seconds, I'll be forced to take on desperate measures!" Harry joked, trying to ignore the lump in his throat that was building up.   
  
"Well, I was considering transferring to Beauxbatons for the next few semesters. You know, as an exchange student or something. I was talking to Professor Dumbledore about it this summer. But he convinced me otherwise. Something I would have never expected from him, truth be told."   
  
Harry felt his hands go numb. Without knowing the reason for that he directed his gaze to his hands. The fingers of both his hands were tangled, pressing on each other with extreme force, resulting in a lack of blood supply to his fingertips. He quickly released some of the pressure and his fingers started to prickle uncomfortably as the blood began to return to his fingers once more.   
  
"Why, Hermione?" Harry asked, his voice sounding strange and unfamiliar to his ears. "What would make you do this? And don't tell me anymore of this "improving your education crap!" he cut her of before she even had the chance to say anything. "Because I happen to know that you had plans for graduating at Hogwarts and going to university abroad. Damn it, Hermione, you don't even speak French!"   
  
Hermione, apparently shocked by his vigorous outburst seemed to recoil visibly before his eyes.   
  
"That's not it," she whispered, hardly audible. "I wouldn't have said that. I would never lie to you, Harry." She looked up at him, her eyes big and chocolate brown, flickering slightly.   
  
"And as for the language thing… I do speak some French. What do you think I've been doing all those times I was on vacation in France with my parents? Don't you expect me to pick up some French over there? I was taking language classes as well. It's not that difficult, as soon as you get the hang of it. The grammar is kind of tricky, but if you have the basics in Latin…"   
  
Harry raised his hand, silencing her with his gesture. "Herms, you're rambling!" he said, frowning at her.   
  
"I know I am," she said, speaking very softly again. "It's just, I've come to realize that…well actually Professor Dumbledore pointed it out to me afterwards… I wasn't entirely sure at first…"   
  
"Hermione!"   
  
"Sorry…" she smiled at him shyly. "Ok, since you were so distant to me during the summer, I… I assumed you needed your time away from me, from Ron and I, like you told me on the phone. But what I came to realize later on was, that it wasn't possible for me to exclusively let you have your own will,"   
  
Even in the dim moonlight Harry noticed a faint blush creeping up to her face. He studied her features. She wasn't beautiful in the original sense of the word. Her loveliness was found in several different sources. She was caring, loyal and the most helpful person he'd ever met. The determination for helping others made her beautiful, most of all. Her friendship meant more to him than he was able to grasp just yet.   
  
"What do you mean with that," he asked, his voice speaking as soft as hers. He reached out and took hold of both her hands, squeezing them tightly. 

  
It was obvious that she had immense difficulties saying what she wanted to say and do it out loud. She opened her mouth several times, closing it again after the failed effort of speaking.   
  
"It's not easy," she finally said. Though this was unnecessary. Harry continued looking at her, waiting for her to start.   
  
"It's just that, all my life, I mean, all the time we've been going to school together. Maybe I should say: All my life after receiving my letter from Hogwarts, I've been constantly worried about you, Harry! Ever since our fist year, when you saved the Philosopher's Stone from Voldemort. There wasn't a day going by where I didn't fear for your safety, worry about your protection and working on whatever difficulty it was that you might have to face again. It's become my life! My primary purpose in life seems to be the friend and helper of Harry Potter. And I didn't mind. And I still don't mind," she added hastily.   
  
"But in the recent past, it's become too much of a burden. Physically and… emotionally," she looked away, evidently not noticing a tear making its way down the side of her suntanned nose, running down her cheek.   
  
"I couldn't stand it anymore," she continued, her voice cracking a little. "I desperately wanted to be there for you, but you wouldn't let me. I wanted to be of assistance to you and support you in your time of grieving for Sirius, but there was no way getting through to you. And it still seems to be impossible." Hermione continued shakily, still not looking up at Harry, who sat there, petrified. He hardly noticed his hand slipping out of her lose grip, dropping limply into his lap.   
  
"I can't believe I'm telling you all this now. But Dumbledore and Ron convinced me that you're going to find out. And you should find out because I told you, not any other way. Anyhow, it seemed like you rejected me and it hurt. It was the feeling of something being torn out of me. I just didn't feel like I could face you again, you and the danger that you are going to be facing again, undoubtedly. I didn't know anything about the Draught of Tears back then, but here we go. Some deadly potion, mingling all powers of magical beasts," she sniffed. "I thought it would be too much."   
  
"So I thought it might be best if I spent some time away from all this. And Beauxbatons seemed to be a rational thing to do. But Professor Dumbledore told me that I shouldn't." she eventually reached up and roughly ran her hands over her face.   
  
"He told me that you need me, that you need my friendship and support. And that I would be of help to you. And as soon as you arrived at Grimmauld Place, I thought it might be true." As Hermione stopped, she looked up at Harry, apparently searching his eyes for something he wasn't quite aware of.   
  
Harry looked at her, his mind completely wiped blank. Whatever Hermione had been saying he just didn't quite recall all the details. He racked his brain for something to say, but he felt as if he was running into a solid brick wall.   
  
"You can't leave, Hermione," Harry finally managed to utter. "You're always there. You can't be gone. You're…you're…you're Hermione!" he finally said sheepishly, as if that settled it.   
  
Hermione led out a quiet sob and buried her face in her hands. Her long bushy curls fell down her shoulders, nearly covering her face like a curtain. The sobs seemed to shake her whole body slightly. She gave the impression to be shivering madly all of a sudden.   
  
Harry stared at her, unsure of what he was to do. He never felt as unsure about anything in his whole life, or that it seemed, at least. There were only two different thoughts racing through his mind in lightning bolt speed at this point.   
  
"Hermione wanted to leave Hogwarts" and "Hermione is crying".   
  
The first one was accompanied by a painful lurch in the region of his stomach. He still couldn't quite understand her reasons for even considering something like that. Hermione had always been there to turn to. If it wasn't for her, he wouldn't have survived the first year, starting with the Devil's Snare. Then it hit him: He might have taken his friend for guaranteed all along. He might not have appreciated her enough.   
  
The second consideration of his needed a solution right now.   
  
Harry reached out his hand and brushed his fingers against her cheek, surprised on how soft and smooth her skin felt under his touch. He wiped away her tears as gently as he could.   
  
Hermione opened her eyes slowly, looking at him, her eyes big and puffy, bloodshot from crying and with an expression in them Harry had never seen before. He stroked his fingers down her cheek onto her neck, then caressing the soft skin behind her right ear.   
  
As soon as his fingers reached that part, she closed her eyes and let out a soft sigh. The sound of her breath escaping her lips made his stomach twist to knots. He frantically tried to regain his composure. This was his best friend he was touching. This was Hermione, for Merlin's sake!   
  
Trailing his trembling hand to the back of her neck, her soft hair tickling the skin of his arm, Harry desperately tried to ignore the suddenly unexpected loud rushing of his blood and increase of his pulse. "This is Hermione. Hermione!" he kept telling himself.   
  
As if she had heard him, what he hysterically told himself was… not… possible, Hermione opened her eyes and her chocolate brown locked with Harry's deep green ones.   
She gazed into them, questioningly.   
  
"Harry?" she whispered quietly. The sound of his name spoken in such a familiar and still intimate manner made it hard, if not impossible, to ignore the sudden feeling of longing erupting in him. Harry had never heard his name spoken like this. He allowed his left hand to graze hers softly, feeling her tremble beneath his touch.   
  
He looked at her, the girl he had known for a great part of his life. The one he first met on the Hogwarts Express, transporting them into a different and amazing New World. In these few moments he thought of all the trials and tribulations he had been through and never recalling a remembrance that didn't have her involved. There wasn't a memory he could grasp that didn't have her within it. A memory that didn't start with her, include her, end with her.   
  
Hermione was still looking at him, observing him as if she could read his very mind. The flutter in his stomach increased under her gaze. He drew closer until her face was only inches away from his own. His hand cupped her cheek, his thumb stroking the side of her face. Her eyelids closed and she lifted her chin and drew just a little closer until her lips met his.   
  
Harry was in shock. His mind was screaming at him that this was his best friend who's lips were pressed on his, but everything else told him that… well it didn't tell him anything at all, besides…   
  
He applied a little more pressure to her mouth, pressing his lips gently on hers and heard her sigh against his mouth. His stomach did a severe back flip, causing him to tremble slightly. Hermione apparently noticed this for she reached out and put her arms around his neck, without breaking the contact, tightening her hold on him.   
  
Harry pulled her closer and tighter to him. He felt her melt against him as he gently deepened the kiss. This was so unlike anything he had ever experienced before. It was as if fireworks were going of in his body, sending tingly sensations throughout all his being. The little voice telling him that he shouldn't be kissing his best friend was silenced by something stronger, something sweeter.   
  
Realization. Realization that this was so distinct from sharing shy kisses with Cho. So different from the fiery, passionate way Grace had kissed him just two nights ago.   
  
Hermione kissed him with love. He could feel it so distinctively and it made all the difference in the world. For he had never knowingly experienced love, in its true form, in his whole life.   
  
While pulling her even closer, not knowing if this was humanly possible, he felt the back of his eyes sting painfully. He couldn't help tears escaping from them, slowly making their way down his cheek. He pulled away from her just a little and let his head drop onto her shoulder. His tears finally moistening the fabric of her silky nightgown. Hermione's hands went up, one tangled gently in his black messy hair, while letting the other tenderly run over his neck.   
  
"You love me," Harry finally whispered after what seemed eternities.   
  



End file.
